


A Different Life

by slight_Ichatrina_obsessed_sleepyfangirl



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Adultery, Arranged Marriage, Childhood Friends, F/M, Family, Family Secrets, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Humor, Magic, Miscarriage, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Unplanned Pregnancy, Witches, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 08:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 53
Words: 111,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1934187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slight_Ichatrina_obsessed_sleepyfangirl/pseuds/slight_Ichatrina_obsessed_sleepyfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different take on Ichabod's past. It still leads to the twenty-first century, but Ichabod just takes a few different paths to get there.  What if Ichabod knew of the supernatural, and that he was a Witness before he faced the Horseman?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of my sanity and intense dislike of Math, Ichabod and Katrina are the same age, and I'm counting backwards from Katrina's tombstone to calculate the year they were born. This story does quite a few time jumps and also flashbacks throughout. I've only done one other multi chapter fic, so please bear with the plot holes, though I do hope I managed not to have too many ;) Hope it's enjoyable!

_1758 (8 years old)_

A flash of red caught his eye. He had her now. Waiting for the right moment, he jumped up, arms in the air. "Got you!"

She let out a light scream as she spun round. "Ichabod," she yelled, hand covering her heart. "You scared me!"

With a triumphant laugh, he started down the street at a full run.

"Ichabod! Come back here."

"Catch me if you can," he called over his shoulder. Finding his destination, he bolted around the corner and waited, his heart pounding in his chest. After a few moments, he carefully peeked back out to see if she was close and frowned. Where was she? Just about to give up his hiding place, he suddenly found himself crashing to the ground.

"Caught you."

Her giggles incited a glare up at her as he looked at his cut hands. "Ichabod," she gasped. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

She knelt down and used the hem of her dress to wipe the blood from his dirty hands as he huffed out, "You didn't."

Jumping up, he began to walk in the direction of his home just knowing his father would be furious with his ruined clothes. His eyes started to tear at the thought of his father yelling at him, the thought causing him more worry than the painful gravel filled cuts.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No."

"Then why won't you talk to me?"

"Because I don't want to."

"It's not my fault you're not as good at the game as me."

Abruptly spinning around, he narrowed his eyes at her. "You're not better than me. I just don't feel very well."

Her eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Then, why are you crying?"

Turning and once again continuing his trek home, he wiped angrily at his face, doing his best to wipe away the evidence. "I'm not crying."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Is it because I pushed you down?"

Growing frustrated, he shouted."I'm not crying!"

"I won't tell anyone. I promise."

Her sorrow filled voice caused him to stop as he looked down at his bloody shirt. Sighing, he, too, spoke in a small voice. "My father is going to be mad. I'll surely get a thrashing."

"Oh." Without warning, she grabbed his arm and began dragging him quickly down the street. "Come with me. My mother can fix it. She can fix anything."

* * *

As they reached her house, she flung the door open. "Mother! I'm home! Where are you?"

Mrs. van Tassel stepped around the corner wiping her hands with a towel. "Katrina, dear, don't shout in the house."

Still holding fast to his hand, Katrina gestured to him. "You have to help, Ichabod. He's hurt."

With a raise of her eyebrows, Mrs. van Tassel walked forward and took in Ichabod's cut hands and dirty clothes. "Well, Mr. Crane, what has happened to you?"

His eyes glanced at Katrina, then back to Mrs. van Tassel as he answered. "I tripped and fell."

Katrina gave him a bright smile, clearly relieved she wasn't getting into trouble, as her mother began to usher him through another door. "Come with me and we'll get this cleaned right up."

Following her into the kitchen, he took a seat at the table as Katrina reassured him, "Don't worry, Ichabod. Mother can fix anything."

That she could. By the time she was finished, Ichabod's hands and clothes looked good as new. "Thank you, Mrs. van Tassel. I'd have been in a lot of trouble if my father had seen my clothes."

Patting his hand with a smile, she pushed herself back up. "It was my pleasure, Mr. Crane." Turning and grabbing a plate behind her, she set it before them. "Now, how about you and Katrina finish this plate for me while I clean the kitchen?"

With little hesitation, he and Katrina dove right in to the treats. As they ate, he observed Mrs. van Tassel. She looked exactly as he imagined Katrina would when she was older. Flaming red hair. Green eyes. Pale skin. She was honestly the nicest lady he'd ever met. He loved coming here. Snacks were always at the ready and Mrs. van Tassel would teach he and Katrina how to make different meals, something he just knew his father would disapprove of. He always wanted Ichabod studying, stating there would be time to have adventures another day. Ichabod, however, took more than enough adventures. Between he and Katrina, he wasn't sure who got into more trouble. Why just in the last month, he'd gotten three thrashings for returning home filthy. He simply couldn't help it. Katrina had a tendency to drag him all over the place, often resulting in ruined clothing, but the adventures they had were well worth the punishment...after a time.

"It's getting dark out, Ichabod. I'm sure your parents will be looking for you soon."

Nodding his head and standing, he thanked Mrs. van Tassel once more for helping him.

"Of course. Katrina, see Ichabod to the door," she said, before turning back to her work.

"Ok. Come on, Ichabod."

Once again, she grabbed his hand and began pulling him along. As he exited the house, Katrina called after him. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Alright. Goodnight, Katrina."


	2. Chapter 2

Walking down the steps from class, Ichabod suddenly found himself falling forward.

"Watch where you're going, Ichy."

Regaining his senses, he looked up to the boys standing over him and sighed as he picked up his books.

"Leave him alone."

Glancing just behind the boys, he found Katrina standing a few feet way with a scowl on her face.

The boys laughed and looked back to him. "Who's this, Ichy? You need a girl to protect you?"

Katrina rushed over to pull him up, but he shrugged her off with a growl. "I don't need any help."

Moving to pass through the boys blocking his path, they shoved him back and forth until he was once again on the ground.

"I said to leave him alone!"

Their attention left him and turned to Katrina. "What are you going to do about it? Cry?"

Before he knew what had happened, Ichabod was joined on the ground by all three boys. Shocked, he didn't object this time when Katrina pulled him up and went about gathering up his books in a hurried manner before grabbing his hand.

"Come on, Ichabod. Let's go home."

Allowing her to lead him away, he glanced back at the boys in confusion. "How did you do that?" She didn't look back at him, but pulled him along faster prodding him to ask again. "Katrina?"

Still, she didn't answer, nor would she even look at him. Reaching the point where they usually parted ways to go to their separate homes, Katrina released his hand and kept walking.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Ichabod."

"Katrina!" he shouted, running after her. "How did you do that? You pushed them down without even touching them!"

Turning abruptly, she quickly threw her hand over his mouth before looking around with wide eyes. "Don't say that! I didn't push them. They-they fell."

Furrowing his eyebrows, he pointed back toward the school. "I saw you, Katrina. You waved your hand at them and they fell. You _made_ them fall."

She looked as if she were on the verge of tears as she shook her head and plead. "Stop saying that! I didn't! I have to go home now."

He called after her as she turned and ran, but she didn't look back.

* * *

Instead of making his way straight home, Ichabod wandered about. He was conflicted about what he'd seen. Katrina must be right. He was mistaken. She couldn't have done it. It simply wasn't possible. Those boys were twice her size and there had been _three_ of them. It must have just seemed as if she'd pushed them. With a sigh, he realized that it was getting late and finally began making his way home. Upon entering his house, he heard his father call to him from the study.

Making his way in, he held his breath as his father spoke. "Ichabod, son, where have you been?"

"I lost track of time, father."

His father rose from his desk and circled around to stand before him with a stern gaze. "What on earth has happened to your shirt?"

Glancing down, Ichabod noticed for the first time the large tear in his sleeve. "Oh, I must have ripped it when I fell down the steps earlier at school."

"You've ruined a perfectly good shirt, Ichabod. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Unable to meet his father's harsh gaze, Ichabod chose to instead look at his shoes. "I'm sorry, father."

"Have you been out with that van Tassel girl again?"

Jerking his gaze to his father at the mention of Katrina, Ichabod shook his head. "No, father."

"You better not have. I've warned you about spending time with her. She's not like us, Ichabod. She's wild. Unlearned."

Ichabod frowned. "Katrina's the smartest girl in class, father."

His father sighed. "I don't mean that she's unintelligent, son, but that she's not proper. Her parents allow her to run through the streets without a care. It's very unbecoming of a young lady."

"She's my only friend," Ichabod replied in a small voice.

"Nonsense! You have plenty of young men in your class that enjoy your company."

Knowing objecting to his father would be unwise, Ichabod nodded his head and spoke in a defeated voice. "Yes, father."

"Good. Now run along and ready yourself for bed."

"Yes, father."

Making his way up the stairs, he hung his head. If his father ever found out just how much time he spent with Katrina, he'd surely get a thrashing.


	3. Chapter 3

Katrina didn't come to school for a whole week and Ichabod became worried that she wasn't coming because she was angry with him. He _had_ accused her of pushing all those boys down. Maybe she no longer wished to be his friend anymore. The thought caused him to worry even more.

Finally unable to take her absence any longer, he found himself standing outside the van Tassel home as he waited for an answer to his knock. The door opened to reveal an elderly woman.

"Can I help you, young sir?"

Not recognizing the woman, Ichabod began to doubt that he had the right door. "I'm a friend of Katrina's. I was worried when she didn't come to school. Is she here?"

He could hear many voices echoing behind the woman causing her distraction. "Yes. She is here, but I'm afraid now is not a good time to visit her."

"Why not?"

A voice from inside called for the woman and she turned back to him. "I'm sorry, young man. I must go."

Without another word, the door shut. Confused, Ichabod stared at it a moment before turning and walking down the steps. He came all this way to see Katrina, only to be sent away. He hated when adults didn't give reasons. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and he took off down the alley beside the house. Reaching the kitchen door, he slowly opened it and peeked in. No one was in sight, but he could hear voices from the front of the house. Slipping in, he made his way up the stairs to where he knew Katrina's room to be. The door was slightly cracked and he knocked on it.

A small voice drifted through. "Go away."

"Katrina?" He pushed the door open a little further to find her sitting on the floor in the corner of her room.

She looked up at him with a frown. "Ichabod? What are you doing here?"

Glancing about the room curiously, he answered her. "You haven't been to school all week." He'd never been in a girls room before. It was...odd. "Are you mad at me?"

"No."

Her voice sounded small as she whispered. Curiosity overtook him. "Why are you sitting on the floor? Are you ill?"

She shook her head and clutched at a doll in her hand. "No, my mother died."

Ichabod felt his mouth fall open slightly. He'd never known anyone who'd died before. Sliding down the wall to sit beside her, he stared at her. She wasn't crying, which seemed strange to him. If his mother died, he was sure he'd cry.

"I'm sorry. Was she ill?"

Shaking her head, she squeezed the doll in her hands. "No, she was killed."

Ichabod's eyes widened. "Killed?" he asked in a surprised tone.

"A monster did it, an evil monster."

Ichabod furrowed his eyebrows. He supposed she was right. Anyone who would hurt someone as nice as Mrs. van Tassel had to be a monster. "Did they catch the man?"

She shook her head again as she squeezed the doll closer to her. "My father said we have to move away."

Ichabod frowned at her confused. "To another house?"

"No," she whispered. "We're moving to the colonies. Father said he wants to start a new life there."

His heart began to beat faster as he turned more fully toward her. "You can't. If you leave, I-I'll never see you again."

"I told him I didn't want to go, but he said I had to."

"But... But you have school. You can't leave in the middle of the semester."

"We're leaving tomorrow. That's why all the people are here. They're helping father prepare."

He jumped up abruptly. "Tomorrow!? No! You can't go!" He exclaimed.

Katrina looked up at him startled. "I have to."

His mind was busy thinking of a way to stop this, any way to stop it. "We-we could run away. Where no one would ever find us. Then, they couldn't make you leave."

She seemed to be thinking about it, but instead, shook her head. "I can't leave my father alone. He'd be sad."

He felt like falling down and throwing a tantrum. "But _I'll_ be sad if you leave. You're my only friend." She just had to understand.

"I'm sorry, Ichabod."

He was so angry. Clenching his fists, he turned and ran through the door, down the stairs, and out into the bright day. He didn't stop until he was in his own room. Kicking the door closed, he threw himself on his bed and began to weep into his pillow.

"Ichabod? Son, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

He felt his bed shift as his mother sat beside him and begin to rub his back. Sucking in a breath, he spoke into his pillow. "Katrina's moving away."

His mother's hand stilled for a moment. "The van Tassel girl?"

Nodding his head into his pillow, he let out a whimper. "Her father's making her move to the colonies with him because her mother died."

"That must be very hard for her." His mother's voice held sympathy and he could tell it wasn't for him.

"I don't have any other friends! Only her. She's leaving me all alone!"

"Oh, Ichabod," his mother said as she caressed his hair. "I'm sure she's sad to leave her home and all her friends."

He shook his head. "She doesn't have any friends. I'm her only friend and she's mine. She can't leave, mother. She can't! It's not fair!" His words were desperate and forlorn.

Gathering him in her arms, his mother pulled him to her chest and held him for a long time, until he was too tired to keep his eyes open any longer.


	4. Chapter 4

His mother was shaking his shoulders, but he shrugged her off with a tired moan. "No. There's no school today, mother."

"The ships will be leaving soon. If you so wish, I will take you to the docks to see Katrina once more before she departs."

Abruptly, he sat up, sleep completely gone from his mind. "You'll take me? What about father? He doesn't like Katrina." He just knew his father wouldn't permit this. His voice had started with excitement, but by his last words were dripping with sorrow.

His mother smiled as she pushed back some hair from his face. "He's gone to visit his colleagues this morning." She patted the bed. "Now, hurry and dress, or we'll miss her altogether."

As he jumped from the bed, he pulled on his clothes faster than ever before. Rushing to the door, he thought of something and quickly turned back to his dresser. Grabbing the item, he ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time, to find his mother already waiting at the door. "I'm ready!" he yelled, unable to contain himself in his haste.

* * *

The docks were always so interesting to Ichabod, though he had no desire to sail in the water for any reason. It was entirely too vast and, to be honest, a little scary. He couldn't believe Katrina was about to do it.

Searching for her, he became frustrated as he could not see over all the tall people. How he wished he was taller! "This way, Ichabod," he heard his mother say. Glancing up to her, he found her gaze fixed upon something, or someone.

"Do you see her? Do you?" He asked excitedly.

"I do. Right over here."

His mother pulled him along until he saw a flash of red. With a jump, he shouted, "Katrina!"

She spun, looking every which way at his voice, and when her eyes caught his, a bright smile lit her face. "Ichabod!"

He nearly collapsed as she ran and threw her arms around him, her voice small in his ear. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

He chuckled. "Well, I had to come say goodbye to my best friend."

She pulled back from him, a confused smile on her face. "I'm your best friend?"

"Of course you are," he said, as if it were obvious. She'd always been his best friend.

"Katrina, it's time to go."

Her smile dimmed at her father's voice. Before she could move, he remembered the item and reached his hand into his pocket to pull it out.

"Here."

Grabbing her hand, he gently placed the small token in her palm. As she rolled the jewel between her fingers, she looked up at him with a frown.

"But you said this was your favorite belonging. You wouldn't even let me _touch_ it before, even when I begged."

It was true. He wouldn't let anyone touch the small sapphire his grandmother had given him last year. She'd said it was special and he should hold onto it until he found someone special he wished to give it to. With a shy smile, he bowed his head so she couldn't see his eyes. Kicking at the gravel beneath his shoes, he spoke in low voice. "I want you to have it now. So you won't forget me."

He noticed her hand close around the small jewel before she threw her arms around him once more. "I'll never forget you, Ichabod, not ever. I swear."

Her small arms tightened around him at her father's prodding to come before she pulled from him and placed a kiss to his cheek, causing his whole body to heat with a blush. As he watched her walk away and board the ship, he felt his mother's hand came to rest on his shoulder. Once Katrina was out of sight, he turned with a whimper and hugged his mother tightly, the tears once again making their presence known.


	5. Chapter 5

1771 (13 years later)(21yrs old)

The colonies were vastly different than his home in England. Gone were the clustered buildings of the city. Now, he was faced with vast amounts of trees and valleys. Everything was so different.

When his father had gotten him commissioned, he'd been furious. He was a professor. His plan in life was to impart knowledge, not bullets. What good was he in terms of being a soldier?

Following his fellow comrades into the building, Ichabod released a heavy breath. Wonderful. Some new poor soul to interrogate and torture, a freed slave suspected of treason. He despised observing the tactics used in interrogation, but found himself here none the less. Even if he disagreed with the way his men operated, Ichabod found himself always at the ready to follow orders as it was the task of a good soldier to do so.

"Crane, come forth."

Stepping forward, Ichabod held himself at attention as his superior looked him over.

"You come highly recommended to me, Lieutenant. I'm counting on you to coax our prisoner into confession. Do this and I'm giving you a field commission as Captain."

"As you wish, Sir."

As Tarleton exited the room, Ichabod found himself in charge of gaining the needed information from the man strapped to the chair. Considering the man before him, Ichabod only half listened as one of his men informed him of a local nurse wishing to speak with him. Not taking his eyes from the supposed traitor, he nodded. "Send her in."

Hearing footsteps, he turned and felt his heart stop at the women before him. She was utterly beautiful. She shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze, but he still couldn't tear his eyes away.

She glanced at the prisoner, then back to him. "By what right do you hold this man prisoner in his own home, Sir?" Her words were to the point, leaving no room to be mistaken for politeness.

Gathering his wits about him, as it was fairly obvious he would need them, he stood straighter before answering. "By Royal Assent of the King's Quartering Act, madam."

Her eyes flickered from him, to the man, and then back. "And his wounds? Did he offer... _resistance_?"

Fixing her with a serious look, he answered. "He is charged with treason. A crime punishable by utmost severity. I'm certain both sides can agree on that."

She cut him with a stern glare. "Wrong does not cease to be wrong because the majority agrees."

Ichabod's brow twitched at her boldness. Intrigued by this woman, he continued. "You fight for no country then?"

"I am a Quaker, sir. I fight for the conviction that every life is precious." Her eyes darted once more. "Now, I demand you to allow me to treat his injury."

Taken aback at her demand, Ichabod's mind scrambled for an answer, but was oddly saved by his prisoner's voice. "It's alright, my lady. I'm in good hands."

Ichabod could barely believe the man. Surely he wasn't serious. Glancing to his Captain, he considered his options as she spoke again.

"You're eyes betray you. That inner voice that wants to show him mercy. It's called a conscience."

With every word that fell from her lips, he found himself more intrigued. He could not help but feel as though he knew her. There was something familiar about her, something he couldn't quite place. She'd struck something deep within him. As he watched her turn on her heel and leave with one last glare, he made it his goal to discover just want his mind was telling him.

* * *

The day continued to unnerve him. He must be going mad. Seeing monsters, when he knew them to not be real. Perhaps, he was coming down with something. He made a mental note to visit a physician as soon as possible. Glancing around, he spotted her by the shore. From her stare at the earlier executions, he knew she was upset and he found himself wanting to explain. He hadn't wanted that outcome.

Even from a distance, she looked beautiful. Coming to a stop beside her, she didn't even glance at him. With a sigh, he followed her gaze out over the lake and gathered his courage.

"That was not my doing."

"That boy watched his father die. You think you'll be forgiven just because you didn't... pull the lever?" Her gaze flickered to him for a moment as she asked her question.

The sting of her words hit their intended mark.

"What I see," he answered, unable to stop the overwhelming confusion he felt within himself. "I'm afraid I don't understand anymore."

She turned to him fully. "As I said, that is your conscience, revealing what you refused to see... until now."

Releasing a heavy breath, he looked back out at the water, his mind on how oddly comfortable she was to speak to, despite her straightforwardness. "We're from opposite worlds, you and I." He found her eyes again. "Strangers. And yet I have the oddest sensation..."

"That we've known each other all along," she finished.

Dropping his eye from her intense gaze, he smiled as he considered her words.

"I don't believe in spirits, or destiny."

Her light laugh drew his attention back to her and he found her green eyes sparkling. "You're a terrible liar, Sir. It's quite endearing."

Unable to disagree with her, he found himself wanting to know more of her. He turned and bowed before her.

"Ichabod. Ichabod Crane."

Her eyes widened slightly and he felt as if he were being scrutinized as she looked him over.

"Ichabod Crane? Son of Victor and Martha Crane?"

Slightly alarmed, he straightened and nodded his agreement, unsure how she could possibly know that. "Yes. How do you...?"

She was laughing. Obviously, beauty did not mean sanity in the colonies. Finally gaining control of herself, she spoke. "I can't believe it's you."

Looking about for a moment, he focused back on her with a frown. "I'm sorry. I find myself rather confused."

Her smile widened. "You don't recognize me?"

Raising an eyebrow, he questioned. "Should I?"

"And here I thought you'd never forget your best friend."

His frown disappeared to be replaced by shock for it only took him a moment to come to the realization. "Katrina."

Her smile only grew brighter as he stumbled for words. "I-I don't know what to say."

Before he could speak any more, he heard the approach of horses and found men approaching. Katrina suddenly looked determined as she walked towards him. Reaching up, she whispered in his ear. "Meet me at the infirmary tonight."

And then she was gone, her nearness having overwhelmed his senses.


	6. Chapter 6

Ichabod could not believe the day he was experiencing. Traitors who weren't really traitors. Men who weren't really men. A stubborn, straightforward woman who turned out to be his childhood best friend. What on earth did they put in the water in these colonies? Everything and everyone was going mad, or, at the very least, he was.

Doing his best to keep himself upright, he pushed himself forward and up the steps of the infirmary, praying she hadn't been a hallucination and that she was really here. As he slowly made his way through the door, he noticed her on the far side of the room already making her way toward him.

"Ordo ab chao."

Her hands caught him before he hit the ground. His whole body ached and he felt slightly dizzy as she supported him.

"Ichabod."

She guided him to the floor as he could no longer hold himself up, her hand grasping his own as he leaned into her.

After a moment, she leaned back, her hands coming around to touch his wound. "Let's get you up so I can see."

Pulling him to his feet, she helped him to one of the many cots spread throughout the infirmary. He winced as she pulled the shirt from his body, the blood making the material stick to his wound.

"Ichabod, what happened?" she asked with a gasp.

"I'm not entirely sure."

Quickly running about the room, she gathered supplies before returning to him. "Hold this."

As he did as she asked, she began dabbing around the wound to clear the blood.

His words finally began forming. "Arthur Bernard is dead."

Her eyes shot to his and her hand stilled. "What do you mean?"

He sighed before closing his eyes. "I was ordered to take him out to the woods to finish the job myself. My Captain had ordered me to kill him, but... I couldn't. It was wrong and I could not bring myself to follow my orders. After I had released him, he told me to find you, speak those words, and you would know what to do, but before he could escape, my Captain appeared out of nowhere and shot him. We fought and.."

"And?" She prodded.

He brought a hand to his eyes as he answered. "I must have come down with something. I've been hallucinating all day."

Her hands reached forward and gripped his. "Ichabod, what happened?"

With a sigh, he opened his eyes once more. "Earlier, at the execution, I could have sworn... and then tonight... it's just not possible."

Releasing his hands, she gently cupped his face. "Just tell me."

"You're going to think I'm mad."

She shook her head. "I promise I won't."

Taking a deep breath, he hesitantly spoke in a low voice. "I've heard whispers of a secret war, between men and-"

"Demons," she finished, releasing him and stepping back with a shocked expression. "You saw one."

Frowning, he took in her odd behavior. "How did you-?"

"No," she whispered as she looked down at him in what seemed like disbelief. "It can't be you."

"What can't? Katrina, what on earth is going on here?"

She turned her back to him and looked about as if lost. Trying to stand, he only made it half way up before he collapsed back to the cot in pain.

"Ichabod, don't," she said, turning back to him.

She helped him back into a decent position and began tending his wound once more.

"Katrina?"

Not looking at him, she spoke, her eyes fixed on his bleeding cuts. "You have a gift, the power to bear witness."

Completely and utterly confused, he gazed at her as though she were speaking another language. "To bear witness? To bear witness to what?"

She looked across the room to the other patients, her face and voice filled with what seemed like worry. "Now isn't the time to discuss this."

He felt himself getting frustrated at her lack of a clear explanation. She obviously knew something about him that he didn't and he wanted to know what it was.

"Katrina-"

"Not now." Finally, she met his eyes. "I swear that I will explain it to you later, but this isn't the place to have such a conversation."

Her eyes held a deep concern behind them, so he nodded and let the issue drop. For now.

Once finished cleaning his wound and bandaging him, she dipped a fresh cloth into the basin and reached up to wipe the now dried blood from his face. As he observed her focus on her task, he found himself caught up in her eyes. They held so much in them. What sort of life could she have led to have her hold so much within herself? When her eyes finally met his, she gave a small smile before she nodded to the cot.

"Lie back."

He accepted her demand and did as he was told with her help. Once he was adjusted, she pulled a sheet over him.

"Rest."

As she began to move away, his hand shot out to grasp her arm. "You're not leaving, are you?" He knew he sounded desperate, but he was confused and didn't wish to be alone.

Giving him a small smile of reassurance, she shook her head as she rested her hand on his forehead. A warmth he'd never felt before began to spread through him.

"No, I won't leave you." Her words held truth in them and he allowed himself to relax under her touch.

Suddenly very sleepy, he felt his eyes slip closed. "Promise?"

"I promise, Ichabod. I _will_ keep you safe."

The world went dark.


	7. Chapter 7

Something was tugging at him.

"Ichabod! Wake up."

Opening his eyes, he shot up and winced, slightly unsure of where he was. The pain of his wound was throbbing as he attempted to focus his senses. Glancing to his side, he found Katrina, worry etched over her every feature.

"Hurry, we must leave," she said, glancing toward the door.

"What's happening?"

Her gaze found him as she spoke. "They're coming for you."

Understanding, he stood from the cot with great effort as she reached for something.

"Here, put this on."

She pulled a cloak over him and wasted no time in grabbing his hand and leading him to the back door. It was dark out, save for the occasional lantern hanging from a building. Doing his best to listen for anyone approaching, he found it odd how eerily quiet it was. No birds. No crickets. Nothing. As they made their way between buildings, he would lean against the walls and wait for her signal before moving to follow. Every step was a challenge, his wound sending nearly unbearable shots of pain throughout his body.

"Stop," she whispered suddenly, her hand grasping his arm. He didn't know what she was doing. There was no one in sight.

"Katrina-"

Without warning, something grabbed him from behind and he found himself flung to the ground. Trying to regain himself, he looked up to see his Colonel, or the demon, or whatever it was standing before him.

"Get away from him."

It was Katrina's voice that spoke, but the demon paid her no mind as he advanced toward him. Scrambling back, Ichabod was trying to think of a way out of this situation, when the demon unexpectedly flew through the air and hit the building behind him. Staring in shock, he noticed Katrina come toward him and pull him to his feet as the demon regained his footing as well, growling.

"Witch."

As he advanced toward them again, a line of fire burst between them, cutting him off from them. As the flames continued to grow, Katrina tugged at him and spoke in a hasty voice. "We have to go. Quickly!"

She began to basically drag him behind her. As they made their way up a hill, she continued looking over her shoulder as if the creature might be upon them at any moment. He wasn't sure where she was taking him until he saw the church come into view. Upon entering, Katrina called out for someone.

Within seconds, a man, the Reverend apparently, came rushing forward from the back of the building and helped her lead him further inside. Once they had him set down, Katrina turned to the man and began conversing with him in a hushed voice.

"What has happened?"

"We were attacked. A shape shifter."

They continued on until Ichabod could stand it no longer. "What is happening here!? I demand an answer!"

His raised voice finally garnered their attention. With great concern etched over her every feature, Katrina came back and laid her hand over his arm.

"Ichabod, you need to rest."

Jerking away from her, he unsteadily stumbled to his feet and moved back. "Don't! Don't touch me. That thing back there. It called you a witch."

Her hands reached toward him, but he took yet another step back, unwilling to allow her contact.

"Ichabod-"

"I want the truth, Katrina."

With a sigh, she gestured to the bench. "Alright. If you will please just sit back down, I will relay to you all you need to know."

The Reverend stepped forward as if to protest, but Katrina held her hand up to him, never once taking her eyes from his. "Ichabod. Sit."

Looking between the two, he opted to sit across from them rather than beside, wanting to keep his distance.

"Thank you." Finally taking her gaze from him, she turned to the Reverend. "Give us a moment."

"Katrina, this is not a good idea. You can't-"

"Do not begin to tell me what I can and cannot do, Alfred!"

Taken aback at her stern voice, the man nodded and moved to the back of the church. With a deep breath, Katrina turned back to him and, for a moment, she simply stood there, staring at him.

"Is it alright if I sit with you?" At his doubtful look, she smiled. "If I wished you harm, I could have left you to the demon."

That was true. Acquiescing with a nod, she came forward and rested beside him. Her gaze remained on her hands as she spoke. "I imagine you have many questions."

"Only a few thousand." Earning a laugh from her, he continued. "Are you a witch?"

"Yes, I am."

He wasn't exactly sure what to make of it. Witches. Demons. Things were quickly beginning to spiral out of his control and he didn't like it one bit. His mind began to shoot in all sorts of directions and caught on to a memory. "You did push them down." Her look of confusion pushed him forward. "When we were children. Those boys that were bullying me." A thoughtful expression took over her face. "You probably don't remember." It was silly to even bring up considering what he'd just witnessed.

She regarded him for a moment before smiling. "You're not the only one who can remember things, Ichabod Crane. And you're right. I pushed them, though, I hadn't meant to. I only wished for them to leave you alone. I hated how they always hurt you."

He could see her thinking about that day. As she spoke, he couldn't help but stare at her. Her bonnet was gone, lost in the fight and her hair was half hazardly hanging down around her neck. It was a darker red than when she was a girl, and a stark contrast to her pale white skin. But it fit her perfectly as it accentuated her green eyes and made them stand out all the more. His eyes finally worked their way to her lips and he found himself mesmerized as they moved with her words. She was absolutely the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

"Ichabod?"

Startled our of his ponderings, his eyes met hers. "Yes?"

She was smiling at him. "Are you alright? You seemed lost in thought."

Feeling a blush creeping upon him, he tore his eyes from hers, suddenly very warm. "I was just-" His throat closed off, so he cleared it. "I was just thinking."

"About?"

Glancing at her, he could see her smile widening with every second he delayed an answer. Releasing a light chuckle, he answered truthfully. "I'm not even sure anymore."

"You know, you can still tell me anything."

For some reason, he believed her, which was strange. His entire world was turned upside down today and somehow his foremost thought was about a beautiful woman. Maybe he had lost a little too much blood.

"I thought about you." At her raised eyebrows, he continued. "After you left England. I thought about you all the time. Perhaps it was because you were the only person who would tolerate my obnoxious nature." They both chuckled. "Every Sunday, I'd carry flowers to your mother's grave and I'd sit there for hours talking to her. It was the place I felt closest to you. I thought, perhaps, you'd want me to, to take care of her, keep her company." Suddenly realizing just what he was saying and how it made him sound, he glanced at her and saw that she was frowning at him. He did his best to think of a way to backtrack. "Don't pay me any mind. I was an odd child. I mean, what sort of eight year old talks to graves. No wonder I'm in the predicament I now find myself in."

Attempting to laugh off the tension, he felt her hand on his and brought his eyes back to hers, finding her with a warm smile as she spoke. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me. Thank you, Ichabod."

Offering her a small smile, he looked down at their entwined fingers. They fit perfectly together.

They're moment, however, was broken by the Reverend returning.

"Katrina."

Pulling her hand from his, she stood and approached the man. Ichabod was thankful for the distance between them. He'd, of course, noticed women before, courted quite a few as well, but none had ever made him feel the way he did in this moment. Her nearness nearly drove him mad and he could still smell her scent even though she had moved away.

"We should get you somewhere to rest," she said, returning. "Alfred has offered up the small room in the back for you."

He frowned. "But...I have questions."

"And I will answer them, but it'll be light out soon and you should rest."

Wanting to protest, but somehow knowing it would do little good, he nodded as she reached down and helped him up. "I am quite tired."

The room was small, but the bed surely did look welcoming. As Katrina helped him lie down, she gently lifted his shirt. "I suppose now that you know the truth, I can better help you."

At his look of confusion, she laid her hand flat against his wound. Her touch brought prickles to his skin, but within seconds, he felt an odd sensation begin to creep over him. When she removed her hand from him, he sat up abruptly and glanced at the place the wound had been. It was as if he had never been hurt at all. Not even the slightest scar was left.

"Amazing," he muttered under his breath.

"You're welcome."

Directing his gaze at her, he gave her a broad smile. "Thank you, Katrina. You're..." She was close. Very close. "You're perfect."

A smile crept upon her face as her gaze fell to her hands. "I should be going. It's late."

Clearing his throat, he, too, looked to his hands. "Yes, of course."

She backed away from him towards the door. "If you need anything, you only need ask it of Alfred. He'll gladly tend to any need you may have. I'll be back to check on you tomorrow."

"And to answer my questions?"

Chuckling, she nodded. "Yes, Ichabod, I will answer any and all of your questions."

And with one last smile, she was gone. Falling back against the bed, Ichabod stared at the ceiling. A thousand thoughts drifted through his mind as his eyes grew heavy. Somehow, he knew that his life was forever changed, all due to a certain red headed woman with a knack for getting him out of trouble. With a smile upon his face, he drifted off to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

It took a moment upon waking for Ichabod to discern where he was. If it weren't for his surroundings, he would have sworn the night before had been a dream. A very odd, very vivid dream.

After rising and gaining his bearings, he ventured into the main part of the church and looked about. It seemed empty as he made to exit the building.

"Mr. Crane?"

Startled at the sudden voice, he turned and found the Reverend on the opposite side of the room watching him with steady eyes. "You shouldn't venture out. Katrina left strict instructions for you to remain unseen."

"So, Katrina is my keeper, now, is she?" he asked, a little too hotly.

The Reverend gave a sigh. "Trust me son, you do not want to face her wrath. She can be very ill tempered."

Raising his eyebrows, Ichabod looked back toward the doors. He hated being inside almost as much as he hated being told what to do.

"Very well."

With a nod, the Reverend moved to the back of the church. As soon as he was out of sight, Ichabod glanced about once more before slipping out the door at a quick pace. He silently promised he would not venture far, but he needed fresh air and a quiet place to clear his mind.

Finding the cemetery to the side of the church, he wandered through it, every name he passed etching itself into his memory. It wasn't a very large cemetery. The shroud of trees that surrounded it cast a sort of alluring look about it.

Coming to an old oak tree, he rested himself beneath it and leaned his head back, allowing his eyes to fall closed as he listened to the sounds of nature. The birds whistling above him gave a pleasant melody that lulled him. As the world around him continued on, he allowed his mind to venture to his home. What would his father think of him now?

Ichabod knew. He'd call him a traitor. He would do everything he could to cover the shame his only son had brought upon the name of Crane. And his mother, his dear mother who always threw herself between them, would be devastated.

_"Promise me you'll be safe."_

_Sighing, he cast a glance at her worried face. "Mother," he said, taking her hand in his own. "You shouldn't worry so."_

_Her worried face did not lessen in the least. "You're leaving for a whole new land. There's danger in the voyage and what if the health of the colonies is not well? You could perish before you even reach the real danger."_

_"There's danger everywhere. Sooner or later death comes for us all, but you should know by now that it will take a great deal to get rid of me. I'm much too stubborn."_

_She chuckled. "A trait of your father's."_

_Pulling her into a hug, he smiled. "We'll see each other again soon enough."_

Thoughts and memories consumed him, drawing him into a dark place in his mind. What if he'd made a mistake? He'd just forsaken his entire life, his future, his family, all at the words of a complete stranger...and Katrina. He couldn't help but be overwhelmed at seeing her again, not to mention the revelation that she was a witch. She seemed so different now. What if she wasn't who she said she was?

No. She was Katrina, his childhood best friend. Doubt began to pull at him. That is, until a shove against his shoulder brought him back to the present causing him to brace himself with his hand to the ground.

"What do you think you're doing!?"

Looking up, he found a very upset Katrina.

With wide eyes, he answered. "I needed some air."

She released a disbelieving breath. "Air? You needed air!? Oh, well that makes everything better, doesn't it? By all means, you take in all the air you like. I'm sure the demon that's hunting you will just look the other way when he finds you here." She threw her hands up. "He'll understand your need for _air_."

Rolling his eyes at her dramatic spout, he propped himself back against the tree. "You're overreacting." He wished he could take it back the moment he said it as a burst of flame lit the limb lying next to him. "What on earth?" he said, jumping up and looking from the flaming limb to Katrina. "Did you do that?"

With a harsh glare, she began walking back toward the church.

Giving one last glance to the limb, he started after her, gently grabbing her arm when he reached her. "Katrina-"

With a jerk of her arm, she whirled on him so quickly he had to support himself with her waist so as not to collapse over her. "Do you have any idea how worried I was when I arrived and Alfred didn't know where you were?"

He hadn't thought about her worrying as no one other than his mother had worried over him in a very long time. It was not something he was accustomed to, but he could see in her face that she was in fact very upset with worry. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to worry you."

She released a shaky breath as she closed her eyes and brought a hand to her eyes. "It's alright. You're right. I overreacted."

He was acutely aware of how close they were. Lifting his hand up, he pushed her fallen curl behind her ear, his eyes focused intently on her mouth.

When her eyes opened and found his, she softly spoke. "Just promise me you won't do it again."

"I promise," he assured with a small smile.

She nodded and he stiffened as she rested her forehead against his shoulder. Uncertainly, he wrapped his arms around her, only slightly afraid she'd hear his heart beating wildly beneath his chest. The smell of her hair was that of fresh flowers, the scent overwhelming his senses.

"I'm sorry this happened to you."

He smiled at her sorrowful words and tightened his arms around her. No, he thought, his doubt evaporating. Katrina was good. Why else would she worry so after him? "It's not your fault. Besides, I'm not entirely sure what _has_ happened to me in the first place."

He felt an emptiness fill him when she pulled back. "I can tell you."

Reaching down, she grabbed his hand and led him back to the tree where she pulled him down to sit beside her. She then proceeded to explain the details of the war and what her coven was involved in. When she revealed her assumption that he was the First Witness, he jumped up and began protesting profusely. However, with every excuse he gave for not being a Witness, she matched him with a reason that he was.

"Katrina, this is absurd. I'm a professor, not a-a"

"Witness?" she finished with a small smile.

Looking out over the graveyard, he sighed. "This is impossible."

She drew his attention back by picking up a nearby leaf and raising her brow in question. "Impossible?"

The leaf slowly floated up to hover right in front of him. Disbelief filled him as he reached out a hand to allow it to settle in his palm. "I'm hallucinating," he attempted to reason. The leaf suddenly caught fire and he dropped it abruptly before jerking his eyes to hers. "Have you taken leave of your senses?"

"Hallucinations don't burn you." Standing, she gently took his throbbing hand in hers. "Nor do they heal you."

Once again, he felt an odd warmth spread through him. Glancing at his hand, he found the mark and sting from the burn gone. Feeling slightly overwhelmed, he closed his eyes before sucking in a deep breath and releasing it. "Of all the people in the world, why me?"

She squeezed his healed hand. "Because you are a good man, Ichabod Crane."

Opening his eyes, he brought his hand up to touch her face. Her deep green eyes were looking at him with such faith. The pull he felt toward her was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Unable to contain his words, he spoke in a low voice. "And you're beautiful."

He could see her breathing pick up pace as her eyes fell to his mouth. It didn't take him but a moment to close the distance between them. As the seconds ticked by, he moved even closer to her, his hands falling to her neck and caressing its slender form. Their kiss was hesitant and soft, the exact opposite of the feeling his heart was giving him. He thought the quick beats might burst through his chest at any moment.

Pulling back slightly, he leaned his forehead against hers and smiled.

"I've thought about doing that for a very long time. What it would be like to see you again. What you would look like, sound like..." His fingers tangled in the curls about her neck. "Feel like." When she didn't speak, he pulled back even further to find tears streaming down her face. Feeling slightly panicked that he'd done something wrong, his eyes darted over her features. "Katrina?"

Her eyes opened and he saw a deep torment in them. "I'm sorry. I-I have to go. You should return inside the church. Alfred will keep you safe."

He was beyond confused. She tried to pull from him to walk away, but he held her fast. "I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"

She shook her head before sucking in a shaky breath, her eyes looking everywhere but him. "No. I just... have things to take care of." She glanced toward town. "The infirmary. I have to go to the infirmary."

She was running from him. He knew it, but he released her anyway.

"I'll come by later to check on you."

Looking down to his boots, he nodded, completely and utterly confused. "Alright."

Before he got the word out of his mouth, she was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

She didn't return that evening, nor the next morning. His entire day had been spent in the presence of Alfred, who, to Ichabod's mild delight, was rather pleasant company. His worry over Katrina's lack of return, however, put a damper on his mood. Surely, she wasn't too furious with him. Perhaps, he shouldn't have been so quick to kiss her. His father had always lectured him over his overly emotional behavior. On the other hand, the confusion he felt only deepened at the memory of her returning his kiss. Her response had been hesitant at first, but it hadn't taken her but a moment to reciprocate. The feel of her soft lips gently gliding over his was forever burned into his memory.

Finally, after hours upon hours of memorizing every nook and cranny of the old church, Alfred, the only person he'd spoken to all day, informed him that Katrina had sent word to escort him to the tunnels. That's where he was currently standing; in a dark tunnel, lit by torch and moonlight. The effect was quite eerie.

Others, he could only assume were members of Katrina's coven, moved about. They seemed to be conversing over a serious topic. No doubt, he was the highlight. Oddly, they all had hoods pulled up, so he couldn't tell who was who, or even if they were men or women. Beginning to get frustrated with being ignored, he suddenly spotted her. She'd been there all along.

As she pulled back her hood, he found himself suddenly paralyzed. It wasn't just her beauty that overwhelmed him, but her obvious sense of authority. Power flowed off of her in waves as she spoke with the other hooded figures.

Without warning, they all turned to look at him. So, they were conversing about him after all. Shuffling his feet uncomfortably under their stares, he glanced to Katrina. Her eyes met his for a moment and he felt the air seep from his lungs. There were so many emotions dancing behind her green eyes. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of them. The moment passed, though, as she turned to the figure to her left and spoke. After a moment, the person she had spoken to moved toward him, and once close, removed their hood to reveal Alfred.

"It's almost over, Mr. Crane."

Completely confused, Ichabod looked about. "What is? What am I doing down here? Who are all of these people?"

His frustrations were spewing out of him uncontrollably.

"We are having a meeting and we couldn't just leave the Witness alone and unprotected. I offered to stay at the church with you, but Katrina demanded you be here." The man turned to him. "She's very protective of you. It's rather odd."

Calming slightly at the man's admission, Ichabod frowned as he directed his attention back to gazing at Katrina.

"It's odd that she cares for someone?"

Alfred sighed. "She's a very private woman. I consider her to be a dear friend and yet I know very little of her personally. She doesn't take to people easily."

Ichabod found that hard to believe. She'd been a very caring girl, a little too caring.

_"You killed it!"_

_"It was just a butterfly, Katrina."_

_She knelt down and picked up the small butterfly to hold in her palm._

_"You're not going to cry, are you?" He couldn't see her eyes, but judging from her slumped shoulders and heavy breathing, he assumed that was exactly what she was doing._

_"No." Her small voice said otherwise._

_"Come on, Katrina."_

_She spun to face him, her eyes full of fury and unshed tears. "Why did you do it? It wasn't bothering you!"_

_He didn't really have an answer. It had flown into his path and he'd swung at it without considering his friend might be upset. It was just a butterfly. They were everywhere. "I don't know." Shuffling his feet, he peeked a glance at her to see her still cradling the deceased insect. "I'm sorry. I swear I'll never kill another butterfly for as long as I live."_

_Her teary green eyes caught his and she nodded before giving her next order. "We have to bury it."_

_Using all of the willpower his eight year old body had, he contained his moan of protest. "Alright." Turning to kneel in the dirt, he began digging with his hands while mumbling under his breath. "Bloody bug."_

_"What?"_

_"Nothing."_

She had cared about everything.

Watching her now, he saw very little of that girl he'd known so long ago. Maybe Alfred was right. "Who is Katrina exactly? She seems to be doing most of the speaking."

"She's our leader."

Surprised, Ichabod looked from Katrina, to the Reverend, then back to Katrina. "Your leader?"

"I thought you were aware. She's very wise for her years and that's to say nothing of her power. I've never met anyone as powerful as she. Her bloodline has always been filled with great leaders."

Before he could speak again, the hooded figures began to exit the tunnels.

"Come."

Following Alfred, Ichabod soon found himself a mere foot from her. He was completely mesmerized as she spoke with Alfred.

"We can take Ichabod to Commander Washington."

The mention of his name brought him back to the conversation at hand. With raised eyebrows, he questioned. "To Commander Washington? Commander... George Washington?"

Her eyes met his for the briefest of moments, slight coldness in her features, before turning back to address Alfred. "We'll leave at first light. Make sure he is well disguised. We don't want to be forced into a fight because he's recognized."

"Of course." She was now ignoring him as Alfred turned to him. "Well, Mr. Crane, we best get you back. You'll need your rest for the long journey tomorrow."

Gritting his teeth, he stood stone still as Alfred began to move away.

"Mr. Crane?" Alfred called.

He had no intention of moving until she looked at him. "I'm not leaving until you tell me what's happening."

Still avoiding his gaze, she spoke. "We'll talk tomorrow."

She began to move away toward Alfred, but he quickly grabbed her hand to stop her. "No. You're going to tell me, now. I'm not some puppet for you to direct as you will and I'm most certainly not going on some journey when I don't even know the destination."

"I'll be waiting outside," Alfred informed, before he disappeared from sight.

With a surprising amount of annoyance on her face, Katrina turned to face him. "Why are you being so difficult? I'm trying to help you."

Dropping her hand, he huffed. "Help me? How Katrina? By avoiding me? You tell me I'm some important person in the coming war that could end the world and then you disappear. And now I'm to simply accept whatever you've ordered others to do to me?"

Her eyes were firmly planted over his shoulder. "This isn't the time to discuss this."

"Then when? After you've handed me over to the Commander to use as he wishes?" He paused as he allowed a realization to sink into him. "I'm just some chest piece, aren't I?" he whispered. "Someone for you to use in your cause." She still wouldn't meet his eyes and he knew he had his answer. "You don't care about me at all. You simply protect me because you need me."

Without bothering to wait for a response, he exited the tunnel to find Alfred, more than ready to put this day behind him.

As he reached the man, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist.

"I'll bring Ichabod back, Alfred. You go on ahead." Her voice was low, filled with defeat.

The man looked between them oddly for a moment before nodding his assent and departing.

Her hand pulled at him, but he refused to move. "Ichabod." He didn't want to look at her, he was far too angry. "Please."

Closing his eyes for a moment before turning back to her, he finally met her gaze and found her with a sorrowful expression. "I did not come back yesterday because I was held up by my father. I'm not avoiding you, I'm simply doing what I must to ensure everyone's safety." She sighed as she held her free hand out as if indicating a presence. "I have a responsibility to an entire coven. It is my duty to keep a clear mind and guide them because we are the soldiers in the coming war between good and evil. And you, Ichabod, along with the Second Witness, will be our leader." Her eyes fell to their tangled hands. "To have us conflicted with trivial things as this is irresponsible."

He could stand no more. "Irresponsible? It's irresponsible for me to care for you? Even leaders need love, Katrina."

Her eyes darted to his, wide with surprise. "Love? Ichabod..."

He hadn't meant to imply that he loved her, though he was having a hard time convincing himself that he didn't, despite the fact that they'd only just found each other again mere days before. Quickly attempting to recover, he continued. "I meant in general. Everyone needs to be loved. You can't use your power as an excuse, Katrina. You have to allow yourself to give and receive love."

She looked away from him. "Love is not a luxury I have." He watched her glance about and he thought she looked like a small lost girl. "When I arrived here as a child, my father was quick to secure our future. I've been engaged to be married since I was ten."

All the air left him as well as what he could only assume was his sanity. Unthreading his fingers from hers, he took a step back causing her gaze to return to his.

"You're getting married? When?"

"As soon as he returns from England. He's there on business and upon his return, we are to be wed."

Deep breaths. He had to remind himself to take them.

After a moment of silence, she sighed. "We should get you back to the church."

Turning on his heel, he began walking in said direction.

"Ichabod-"

"No!" Spinning back around, he looked at her, defeated. "No, you're right. Now isn't the time to discuss this."

The rest of their walk back to the church was spent in silence. He never thought he'd be ready to put distance between he and Katrina, but at this moment he wanted to be as far from her as possible. Stopping before the steps, he looked up at the church.

"It appears we've made it safely. I'll suppose I'll see you in the morning so you can hand me off to someone else to be burdened with."

Without bothering to glance at her reaction, he started up the steps.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning found Ichabod very irritable. Well, more irritable than usual. He'd slept little the previous night only to have Alfred awaken him before it was even light out.

Presently, he was sitting against a tree, brooding, as they waited for Katrina's arrival. Alfred was standing off to the side thankfully leaving him be. He felt slightly guilty for berating the man. Every time he opened his mouth, it seemed a snide remark would make its way out. His mood simply could not be helped at this point. It was ridiculous, he knew, but Katrina had always been some sort of dream to him. After she'd departed from England, he'd tried to make other friends, find a new place in the world, but his classmates would have little to do with him.

They'd all disliked him from the very beginning, what with his father being a respected professor. The absurd idea they all held about him was that he thought himself better and smarter than they, granted with his eidetic memory, he considered the latter to be true, but he desperately tried to deflate that idea. His attempts, however, never reached fruition. Especially considering the fact that his father often paid visits to his school to complain about some rule or another.

Katrina was the only person who'd ever bothered with him. Her friendship only cemented his classmates dislike for him as Katrina was the only other person in school more intensely disliked than he simply because she wouldn't go along with their antics. Her constant need to protect everyone and everything had made her an easy target for bullying. He supposed that he became even more caught in the crosshairs and, in turn, became like a leper to them.

Most of his days were spent in his room studying, much to his father's approval. His mother would try to coax him out, but he would rarely agree.

In his teen years, he'd discovered girls weren't your buddies, not that he had had any to begin with. He'd often wondered what Katrina would be like if she were with him. If her hair and clothes would have become more important than their friendship. Imagining her wearing the sorts of clothes the other young ladies wore had often caused a blush to form over his features as he'd imagined she would be even more beautiful than they.

His first kiss had been when he was sixteen. Clara Sanders. She had been a pretty enough girl. Dark hair and light eyes. His mind had fumbled all over the place as he attempted to kiss her right. The whole experience had been rather awkward.

Other kisses had come and gone, and Katrina had eventually become a distant memory as his studies became more important.

But today, knowing her again. Every longing feeling he'd had rushed back into him. She was absolutely the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Hope had filled him and that kiss they'd shared had fulfilled almost every dream he'd ever had. That is, until her confession had brought them all crashing to the ground. She was engaged, belonged to someone else. It was unimaginable for him. He'd always thought of her as his.

_"Ichabod?_

_His gaze jerked up to find Katrina standing in front of him._

_Utterly horrified that she'd caught him crying, he wiped at his face. "What are you doing here?"_

_Her small body dropped down next to his. "I was coming to see if you wanted to play."_

_He kicked at a small lizard that ran across the step. "I don't."_

_"Ok."_

_He rolled his eyes at the sadness in her voice. "I don't feel like playing, Katrina."_

_A noise came from behind his door. "Ichabod! Where are you? Get back here this instant! I'm not done speaking with you!"_

_Quickly, he reached for Katrina's hand, pulling her down the steps and into the alley beside his house._

_The front door to his house opened and he peeked to see his father step out, look around, then return back inside._

_Releasing a relieved breath, he plopped to the ground._

_"Is your father mad at you again?"_

_Not looking at her, he nodded. "He's always mad at me."_

_She sat beside him. "I'm sorry. I wish he would be nicer to you. I hate it when you're upset. It makes me sad."_

_Glancing at her, he smiled. "You want to go play?"_

_A bright smile lit her face as she jumped up and grabbed his hand. "Yes!"_

"Katrina. Good."

Alfred's voice brought him back to the present.

Glancing up, he saw her approach. How he wished she would just once appear undesirable to him. This morning even her beauty irritated him.

She paused as she gazed at the Reverend.

"Is everything alright, Alfred?"

"Yes, yes everything's fine." The man was clearly lying. Ichabod knew he had him on edge. "Shall we, Mr. Crane?"

Glaring, he tilted his head. "Do I have a choice?"

The man look pleadingly at Katrina.

Fixing him with a pointed look, she spoke. "If you'd rather sit there and wait for a demon to come along and claim you, then be my guest."

She took off in the direction he assumed they were heading, while nodding for Alfred to follow her.

Rolling his eyes, he stood and began to follow.

They travelled for hours without speaking. It was rather difficult for Ichabod as he quite enjoyed speaking. Now, more than ever, he regretted his choice to be so rude toward the Reverend. The man seemed to have a vast knowledge from which Ichabod could have picked at. Instead, he found his eyes fixed on her back as she walked. She had yet to acknowledge him again since threatening to leave him, not even to glance back to see if he was, in fact, following them.

The journey took two days and they rested very little, but finally, they reached their destination. Upon meeting Commander Washington, Ichabod found himself impressed. Washington was a rather tall man and Ichabod thought him to be extremely interesting. He enjoyed having someone that was intelligent enough to converse with him on certain issues, something he'd been lacking as of late since leaving England.

Once they were all acquainted, Ichabod was shown to his tent.

He was aware that the time for Katrina and Alfred to leave was fast approaching and he was unaware when he'd see her again, or if he even would.

Stepping outside, he found Alfred speaking with a few soldiers.

Trying to think of a way to ask about her whereabouts without seeming overly eager to find her, he was saved when Alfred spoke before he could, not even glancing at him.

"She's down by the stream."

Nodding his thanks, Ichabod began in that direction.

When he found her at the water's edge, he took a deep breath before settling beside her.

They remained silent for quite some time before he finally choked down his pride.

"I'm sorry."

She didn't look at him as she slightly shook her head. "There's no need to apologize."

Unable to help himself, he reached for her hand. "Yes, there is."

Finding it easier to look at her hand in his than her eyes, he distracted himself by running his fingers along hers. "I just found you again and I don't want to lose you as my friend."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her observing their hands as well. "You won't. You'll always be my friend, Ichabod. My _best_ friend."

Smiling, he posed a question. "Have I thanked you yet?"

"For what?"

Finally bringing his gaze up to meet hers, he took in her curious expression. "For saving me."

She shrugged her shoulders. "The demon wasn't that terrible."

"That's not what I meant." At her look of confusion, he continued, "You saved me from an ordinary existence. I was going through the motions, living the life that was set before me. You gave me the opportunity to choose my own path. So, thank you. You've forever changed my life."

She looked back out over the water. "I'm glad. I was afraid you would resent me, maybe even hate me for forcing you on this path."

"I could never hate you, Katrina." After a moment, he spoke again. "When will I see you again?"

"I'm not sure. The Commander will keep you very busy and I have much to attend to in the coming months."

"Yes, your wedding," he whispered lowly.

She shook her head. "It's not a choice I made for myself, but one that was made for me. If I had any choice in the matter, I'd..."

Her words fell away with a sigh.

Not really wanting to know, but asking anyway, "Is he a good man?"

Her eyes came back to his, seemingly considering him for a moment. "He is. While, I don't know much of him personally, in the few conversations I've had with him, he seems to be anyway. He likes to show his wealth and brag quite a bit, but... I suppose I would call him a good man."

"Good, I'd hate to have to end him for being cruel to you."

A small smile crept into her features as she lightly squeezed his hand. "Always my protector."

He chuckled. "As I recall, I do believe it was you that did all the protecting. Though, in my defense, you did have an unfair advantage."

Her hair fell into her view as she laughed. "A minor detail."

Reaching up, he tucked it back behind her ear. "I feel safe when I'm with you, and happy. I've not experienced much happiness in my life that didn't include you. You made my childhood bearable."

He wanted to kiss her again. It was a deep want that he knew he could not have.

Instead, he settled for leaning forward, placing his face in the crook of her neck and breathing in her scent, allowing it to make a home in his memory. "I don't want to be parted from you again."

For a moment, he thought he might have overstepped again, but then her hand slid up to hold his face in place, her lips ghosting across his cheek. "This won't be the last time we see each other, Ichabod. I promise."

It was a promise he intended to see her keep.


	11. Chapter 11

1773 (23years old) (Little over a year later)

Ichabod found himself becoming more and more accustomed to this new world he found himself in. In his time in this new land, he had made many new acquaintances and learned much involving the colonies as well as the underlying battle that raged in its midst.

A year had passed by quickly since his decision to leave all he knew behind and embrace the unknown.

His life over the last year had mostly involved the constant task of traveling and carrying messages for the Commander, most recently with his new partner, Abraham Van Brunt.

Abraham was an amicable enough man. Highly intelligent and _extremely_ wealthy. The man was heir to quite the fortune, his family being one of the most prestigious in the colonies. Often Ichabod got the sense that Abraham was only here for show, but found himself calling him friend anyway. It was hard not to with the way he was so generous in his ways, another reason Ichabod thought he was here for show. It wasn't hard to see Abraham liked the attention of being known in such a light. They didn't speak much of their personal lives, as Ichabod wasn't one to freely share himself with others. They, instead, decided, well, he did anyway, to focus on their work.

His did have a certain trust in his new friend that was established quite solidly when he had pulled him to safety from a stray bullet a month earlier, a mishap that had nearly cost him his life and forever indebted him to the man. He was glad Abraham was, at the very least, reliable.

To his disappointment, he hadn't seen Katrina again since the day she left him with the Commander. Often, he wondered about her, if she was happy in her new life. He knew she must be married by now. With that thought, others would often follow, other thoughts he could barely bring himself not to fall apart at.

If she was married, it was possible that she was now with child. The thought both tormented him and brought him joy at the same time. Katrina swollen with child was something he'd love to see.

He could nearly imagine a beautiful girl with Katrina's hair and his eyes running around a house as he chased after her. He'd dreamed of it so many times. The sweetness of the dream, however, would more often than not turn nightmarish with images of another faceless man being there with them. A man holding the small girl that called him father. He would tuck the girl in at night and tell her wild stories. Then, he would see the man holding Katrina, making love to her, leading Ichabod to wake up in a cold sweat and do his best to shove the horrid thoughts from his mind.

Today, though, was the day he both dreaded and looked forward to. He was currently walking down the streets of Sleepy Hollow. His presence in the town being due to the fact that the Commander was here for a meeting, and he and a few others had accompanied him. Once the meeting was adjourned though, he planned to seek Katrina out as soon as possible. The joy would be in seeing her, the dread in meeting her husband and, perhaps, even her child

"I simply cannot wait for you to meet her, Ichabod."

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he glanced to his friend, who was smiling as if he were running for some sort of political office as he waved and nodded to each and every passerby.

"Meet who?"

Abraham fixed him with an incredulous look. "Why, my fiancé, of course!"

With a frown, Ichabod glanced down the street. "She lives here? In Sleepy Hollow?"

"Yes. I'm sure I've mentioned that. She and her parents moved here some time ago."

No. He hadn't. The only thing he knew about this mysterious fiancé of Abraham's was that she was beautiful. That was it. In the two months he'd known Abraham, the man had only bragged of her great beauty, how he would be the most begrudged man in all the colonies for gaining such a wife as she. He had also admitted at one point that she was of a considerably lower class than he, the arrangement having been struck between his father and hers over a card game one evening. Abraham had dreaded marrying a woman of such lower class, that is, until he'd laid eyes on her. It would seem the woman was lovely enough to overlook the fact of her lack of social standing.

Ichabod tended to change the subject when Abraham began down these long torrents of bragging, which led to very few personal details being shared between them as Abraham bragged _often_. Add to it the fact that Ichabod tended to think of his lack of a romantic life in those moments, he often found himself rather uninterested in discussing those of others.

"Of course," he answered, tiredly. "It simply slipped my mind."

Abraham slapped him on the back. "And here I was under the impression that you remembered everything."

Giving a tight smile, Ichabod shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose I'm slipping."

"Yes, well-Oh! I see someone I simply must speak with. A supporter of the war, albeit a poor one, but even the less fortunate have something to contribute in body count. You go on ahead, Ichabod. I'll be there momentarily."

With a nod and a slight roll of his eyes, he entered the town hall and looked about until he found the Commander.

"Ah, Crane," the Commander said, holding out his hand for a shake. "Come, let me introduce you to a few important people to the cause."

Ichabod accepted the man's extended hand. "Of course, Commander."

As they began moving about the room, he was introduced to many influential members of the town as well as a few who were savvy to the tactics of war. He was always grateful when he found someone with the ability to converse on an intellectually stimulating level.

When they came to the next group of people, Ichabod found himself surprised to find Katrina there. Her back was too him, but she was unmistakable.

It was the Commander that spoke to her first and he felt his heart pick up pace at the knowledge that he was in her presence.

"Ms. van Tassel."

She had a smile on her face as she turned, but, to his confusion, it faded when her eyes met his.

"Commander Washington," she said, seemingly regaining herself. "How wonderful to see you again."

"Thank you, madam. How are you?"

Her jaw flexed for a moment before she answered. "Oh, I'm wonderful, and you?"

The Commander gave a nod. "Tired, but glad to be here amongst friends once more."

"Ah, Commander. Ichabod."

Katrina visibly flinched at Abraham's voice, which only furthered his confusion. That confusion was only deepened as Abraham stopped at Katrina's side with a proud smile on his face, his hand sliding along her arm.

"I see you've met my fiancé."

If it were possible, he was sure all the blood had drained from his face.

Abraham was Katrina's fiancé.

There was simply no way this wasn't a dream. A very bad, very vivid, dream.

As he found himself too far at a loss for words, he was grateful when the Commander gave reply. "Yes, you're a very lucky man, Abraham. She is very beautiful."

Abraham gave a proud smile. "Thank you, Commander."

Ichabod nodded and spoke through gritted teeth. "Yes, she's lovely."

Her gaze glanced to his boots for a moment, but quickly returned to the Commander.

"Ah, drinks," Abraham said happily. "I shall fetch us some."

The Commander excused himself to speak with someone else as Abraham departed, leaving Ichabod alone with Katrina, who was deftly avoiding his gaze.

He was desperately attempting to sort through his thoughts.

"Katr-"

"Here you are, Ichabod."

Nearly jumping out of his skin, he turned to Abraham, who was holding out a drink.

"Thank you."

As Abraham resumed his place at Katrina's side, he once again smiled broadly. "I'm glad that you're finally able to meet Katrina. I've told her all about you in my letters."

Ichabod's brow shot up as he stared at her, but her eyes were firmly focused over his shoulder. "Have you?"

"Yes, yes," Abraham said with a nod. "I believe she's quite enjoyed the stories of our adventures, especially the one where I saved your life."

Forcing a light chuckle, Ichabod smiled. "An event I feel I shall never live down, nor one that you'll ever cease retelling."

Abraham took a sip of his drink. "Well, I do enjoy being the hero."

"That you were," he mumbled as he looked for an exit to this conversation. Seeing the men begin to gather, he found his opportunity and looked to them both. "It seems it's time."

Bowing to Katrina, Ichabod gave her a tight smile. "It was lovely to _meet_ you, Ms. van Tassel."

Though she was hiding her discomfort with expertise, Ichabod knew her too well and could see right through it as her eyes focused on his boots again.

"The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Crane."

With every ounce of control he had within him, he turned away, his day having taken a considerable turn for the worse.


	12. Chapter 12

Once the meeting was over, Ichabod was glad to escape to the outdoors and acquire some much needed fresh air.

He found the entire meeting one stuffy mess and his thoughts weren't helping. They'd consumed him so much that the meeting's topics had passed by without his notice. He'd been too distracted by his constant attempt to suppress his frown at Abraham's hand ever present at Katrina's back.

How had this happened?

Fate was cruel to him indeed. Not only was his love marrying, but it was to his partner, a man he was forced to spend all of his time with.

He had to do his best not to feel betrayed as they were engaged long before he found Katrina again, but still...

Making his way to the church, he decided to visit Alfred, but unfortunately found the Reverend to be absent.

Venturing, instead, into the graveyard, he found himself under the same tree in which he'd sat with Katrina the first time he'd kissed her. The memory was forever etched into the very fabric of his being.

The gentle breeze felt wonderful against his burning skin as he was still flushed with emotion, raging emotion. Jealousy, betrayal, hurt, love. They were all coursing through him, attempting to escape into the world about him.

How he'd allowed himself to come to this place was beyond his understanding. His father had always warned Katrina would ruin him. At the moment, he truly felt as if she had taken his heart and torn it to pieces.

_"I'm going to be late."_

_"No, you're not. We're almost there."_

_He picked up his pace. "My father is going to be so mad."_

_As they rounded the corner, his home came into sight._

_"See? We made it," she said self-satisfied. "And you still have a few minutes before your father arrives home."_

_He turned to her with a small grin. "Tomorrow?"_

_With a bright smile, she nodded, but her smile quickly faded as her eyes darted to something over his shoulder._

_Dread filled him as he slowly turned to find his father standing a few feet away, a deep scowl upon his face._

_Swallowing down his nerves, he started, "Father-"_

_"What are you doing with that girl?"_

_From his father's voice, he knew he was in deep trouble._

_"I was just..."_

_For all his skill when it came to spinning out words, he found none were coming to him at this moment._

_His father stepped forward and grabbed the front of his shirt, jerking him close. "How many times have I told you to stay away from that girl?"_

_"I-"_

_His father shoved him toward the house. "Get inside immediately!"_

_"Stop hurting him!"_

_Once he regained his balance, he turned to see Katrina with her hands balled into fists at her sides, her face scrunched into a frown._

_His father spun on her. "You get home! I'll be having a words with your parents soon enough about your constant interference in my son's life." He pointed a finger at her. "You are to stay away from my son. Do you understand, girl?"_

_Katrina stood her ground and he could see his father readying himself to jerk her up as well._

_"Go home, Katrina." She shot him a glance to which he gave the meanest look he could manage. "I don't want to see you anymore."_

_He took in her shocked expression for a moment before turning on his heel and heading toward the door to his home._

The moment his father had stepped in the house after him, he'd not only received the thrashing of his life, but also another lecture on how beneath him Katrina van Tassel was. His father had always been of the opinion that Katrina was a wild girl, unlearned and headed absolutely nowhere in life. By that point in time, he'd had his father's words already etched into his memory from having heard it so many times.

The following day, he'd profusely apologized to Katrina, begging her forgiveness. She had heckled him for days after that as she drug him through the streets, getting him into much potential trouble.

Sighing at his memory, he continued to sit beneath the tree, sulking in his misfortunes.

That is, until he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

He wasn't alone.

With a slight turn of his head, he found Katrina watching him from a few feet away.

When their eyes caught, she gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to disturb you."

He returned to his previous position before mumbling, "You didn't."

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her skirt and boots come into view before she settled beside him.

"I was glad to see you today. I've missed you."

Her voice sent a rush of feeling through him to which he firmly did his best to stomp down.

The light breeze caught her hair and caused it to sway back and forth.

"It didn't seem like you were glad," he bit out. "Anything but, actually."

Her hands came up to push her hair away in a frustrated manner, pulling his gaze.

Her eyes were darting all about his face.

"What was I supposed to do, Ichabod? Throw my arms around you? Abraham isn't even aware that we know each other."

His eyes found their way back to the many graves spread out before him. So many lives. Had they all been as complicated as his?

"I can't believe he's your betrothed. The one man I'm forced to spend my time with, my partner."

"I thought you knew," came her whisper.

"He never mentioned your name."

Not once. How was it possible that the man never said her name? Irritation at his friend's vain ways took the lead as his foremost feeling.

She sighed. "I'm so sorry. I should have written you the moment I knew he was your partner. It should have come from me."

Her apology was genuine. He could hear it in her voice and the nervousness of her body as well. "It's not your fault. It's mine. I shouldn't let my emotions rule me so. My father always said that was my greatest flaw."

"For all his intelligence, your father was a fool, Ichabod."

Raising his eyebrows at her, he smiled for the first time. "I'm sure he would disagree. He thought you a wild girl that would lead me astray."

A laugh emanated from her. "Did he, now?"

"Perhaps he was clairvoyant."

A pause occurred before she answered. "You believe I've led you astray?"

Her question sounded serious.

When he caught her eyes, he saw she was now wearing a frown.

Shrugging his shoulders, he released a heavy breath. "I'm not sure. Everything is so..."

Her frown deepened. "That's never what I intended."

A harsh chuckle escaped him, his previously pushed down emotions surfacing. "What's that saying? 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions.'"

She turned away from him, a hurt expression upon her face.

Now it was guilt filling him.

"Katrina, I'm sorry." She wouldn't look at him, so he reached out, sliding his hand beneath her chin, to gently turn her gaze back to his. "I know you only want the best for me."

Her eyes glistened as she stared into his. "You and my mother were the only two people in the world who ever truly cared about me. Everyone else attempts to treat me as if I'm made of glass, something to be bartered for something else better. You must know you're the most important person in the world to me, Ichabod. You always have been."

He wiped a hand over his eyes while attempting to calm the raging storm he felt building within him.

"I don't understand why I feel this way, why I'm so upset. It's not as if we've spent any grand amount of time together in the last year. We've spent less than a week together since the last time we saw each other as children."

She was quiet for a moment before her hand gently wrapped around his, her slender fingers threading through his larger ones.

"Perhaps it's because true friendship never fades, no matter the amount of time that passes. We spent every day together as children, shared just as many hurts as we did laughter. We were all we had, Ichabod."

He opened his eyes to find hers once more. "You're still all I have."

Fighting his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed her. Not a soft, gentle kiss as before, but a hard, needy one, filled with all the pent up emotion he held behind it and, to his surprise, she returned it equally, if not more forcefully.

Shifting closer to her, he slid his hand to her neck, reveling in its slender form.

When she ran her hands up and through his hair, deepening their kiss, he felt as though he were about to explode with the overwhelming desire that was now coursing through him.

But then it was over as she abruptly shoved away from him and stood, her back now to him, her shoulders moving up and down with her heavy breathing.

Quickly standing, he tried to think of something to say, an apology for his inappropriate behavior.

She wasn't his to kiss, but another's.

"Katrina, I'm so sorry. I-"

Without warning, she spun, grabbing his face with her hands, her mouth finding his again.

Stumbling back at her sudden movement, he found his back against the tree as she pressed herself into him, her kiss desperate and searching.

It took him a moment to finally recover from his shock, but when he did, he slid his hands to wrap around her, spreading them across her back to pull her closer.

Eventually, the need for air became too great as they pulled apart, but she didn't release him as her mouth ventured to his neck where she burned kisses along his throat.

The sensation of her soft lips lapping at his heating skin sent a pulsing rush throughout his body.

When he felt as if he were about to explode, he gripped her waist tightly before turning to lift her against the tree, firmly pinning her against it. One hand under her thigh and the other at her neck, he pressed his body flush into hers, a need to feel as much of her as possible consuming him.

His face found a home in her neck as she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him as close to her as possible, her chest heaving against him from her erratic breathing.

Her hot breath ghosted along his cheek.

"Ichabod..."

His name on her lips in such a way forced his own moan into her. He was quickly losing his control and couldn't bring himself to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, yeah Ichabod and Katrina just took a moral turn for the worst. The thing about that is, Abraham's decision in the show was a little dramatic for the two of them just saying they were in love. At least, that's what I thought. I mean, yeah, the guy had a serious reason to be upset and yeah Moloch caught him at a really great moment, but still... I feel like he needs a bit of a better reason to become the Horseman of Death. A little more betrayal needs to take place.
> 
> Plus, these two characters are human and far from perfect, both on the show and in this fic. Their relationship on the show is far from a happy fairytale which is why I like them so much. So a few mistakes are a must.
> 
> With that said, on to more drama...


	13. Chapter 13

As he adjusted his trousers, he observed her as as she re-laced the front of her dress, her gaze avoiding his. He couldn't blame her as he was mentally berating himself for the actions he'd just taken. It was absolutely detestable and completely unforgivable. She had every right to set him ablaze for his actions as he well knew she could. For him to have taken something so precious from her...

Just as he was about to begin profusely apologizing, a voice interrupted him, causing him to nearly faint.

"Ah, there you are, Ichabod. I'd heard you were looking for me earlier."

Clearing his throat, he stole another glance at Katrina, who was still not looking at him, before facing the Reverend fully. "Yes, I was stopping by to check in on you. It's been a while."

If the man suspected something about them, he was hiding it well.

"Of course. Katrina, I heard the meeting in town went well."

Her voice was shaky as she spoke, her eyes firmly trained on the one of the many headstones. "Yes. It-it went well."

The Reverend clapped his hands together in approval with a broad smile. "Very good. Well, Ichabod if you'd like to come up to the church, we could discuss the year you've just had. I hear it's been rather exciting."

Offering the man a tight smile, he glanced to the old church.

Fearing he might be struck down if he entered the holy place, he declined.

"I'm afraid I must be getting back. I promised the Commander and Ab-Abraham I'd meet them for dinner this evening."

The thought of his friend made his guilt deepen.

Alfred sighed his disappointment. "Perhaps before you leave?"

Ichabod nodded. "That would be lovely."

Wishing the man would pardon himself, Ichabod found himself disappointed when he asked Katrina to speak with her back at the church.

"Yes. Well, it was- it was lovely to see you both again."

Nearly tripping over himself, he turned and made his way back towards town, guilt eating at him more with every step he took.

* * *

The following day, he found himself completely exhausted. His nightmares had shifted drastically the previous night. He'd dreamed he was with Katrina, her warmth encircling him, her love consuming him. Then, the dream shifted suddenly and it was Abraham and not he that was with her. He found he preferred the faceless man of his former nightmares to these.

Roughly pushing at his eyes with his hands, he did his best to shove the images from his mind, knowing it was useless, but maintaining his attempt nonetheless.

"Ichabod! How wonderful, I found you."

Dread filled him as he opened his eyes to find himself face to face with Abraham and Katrina.

Abraham's arm was looped through hers and he had the overwhelming urge to rip it from him. The very idea that the man was allowed to touch her aggravated him to no end.

"Abraham," he replied with a curt nod. Glancing at her, he gave a slight bow. "Ms. van Tassel."

She met his eyes for the briefest of moments before giving a tight smile and diverting her attention to the street.

Abraham's broad smile only furthered his irritation. "I was hoping to speak with you. I have a rather important matter to discuss with you."

"Of course," he replied, doing his best to maintain his composure. "How can I help you?"

Abraham gestured to Katrina. "As you know, Katrina and I are to be wed next month and I'd like for you to attend as my best man."

He felt he must have lost his hearing. Surely, Abraham hadn't just asked him what he thought.

Glancing to Katrina, he found her still looking up the street rather than at him.

He felt like a scoundrel. What she must think of him now.

"I'm not sure," he started uncertainly. "Well, you see, I have many tasks to fulfill. I don't believe I'll be in Sleepy Hollow at that time."

"Nonsense!" Abraham objected with a wave of his hand. "I've already spoken to the Commander. He said he'd be more than happy to release you for the wedding. I believe he'll be in attendance as well. Come now, Ichabod. I must have my partner standing with me on the day I wed the most beautiful woman in all of Sleepy Hollow."

Katrina turned to Abraham and whispered, "Abraham, Ichabod said no. You should ask someone else. There are plenty of men who-"

"I will not accept that," he interrupted with a shake of his head. "Ichabod, I must have you there. You are my most trusted friend."

The feeling of being completely gutted took over his body as he darted another glance to Katrina whose jaw was clenched tightly.

Seeing no way out of his current predicament, he sighed. "Of course. If that's what you truly want."

"Wonderful!"

Abraham was overly excited in his opinion while Katrina looked ready to throttle someone.

"Now that that's settled," he turned to Katrina. "I'm afraid I must leave you, darling. My parents and I are in need of a conversation about the wedding." He turned back to him. "Ichabod, escort Katrina home for me, will you?"

Katrina sighed, clearly put off by the suggestion. "I can make it home on my own, Abraham. I'm perfectly capable of-"

"Katrina," Abraham interrupted admonishingly. "It's not proper for a lady to be without an escort." Abraham offered up Katrina's arm to him. "Ichabod?"

With yet another sigh, he reluctantly accepted.

"Good," Abraham said with a kiss to her cheek. "I shall see you in the morning for breakfast with my parents."

Abraham took off without another word.

As they began their walk in silence, he found his gaze firmly planted on the dirt in front of him. He had absolutely no idea how to even begin speaking with her.

"Yesterday's meeting went well," he broached uncertainly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her glance at him. "It did."

"I imagine your coven is monitoring the war's progress."

"Always."

Her short answers clearly made known her distaste of talking with him. The result being that silence once more ensued.

When the sight of her family home coming into view, it prompted the question that was slowly eating at him.

"Next month?"

She turned slightly toward him before nodding. "Yes."

"Abraham's excited."

Her arm flinched. "He is."

The tension between them couldn't have been thicker as they reached her front porch.

More than ready to depart, he gave a slight bow of his head. "I should be going."

"Don't," she whispered, her arm tightening on his. "Come inside."

Jerking his head up to her in shock, he spoke. "I shouldn't. It would be-"

"Inappropriate?" she finished with a small laugh. "I believe we are past what would be inappropriate, Ichabod."

His gaze fell guiltily to his boots. "Katrina-"

"Please, come inside."

He looked about. No one appeared to be around.

With a sigh, he nodded before entering the house behind her.

He'd never been inside Katrina's house before. It was larger than the one she'd lived in back in England. More decorative. Her father must have done well for himself after their move.

Allowing his gaze to settle back on her, he found her quietly observing him.

"I have something for you. Come with me."

He hesitated before doing as she asked and following her to a door upstairs.

Upon reaching it, he realized it was her bedroom, bringing him to an abrupt halt as he looked back down the stairs uncertainly.

"No one's home, nor will they be until nightfall."

He turned back to her, his body breaking out in a light sweat. "I shouldn't be up here alone with you."

She reached for his hand, pulling him inside with a smile. "Stop worrying so much."

Once she had him inside, she closed the door, forced him to sit on the bed, then walked to her dresser where she shuffled through it for a moment before grabbing something and walking back to sit beside him.

"I believe this is yours."

In her hand, she held the sapphire he'd given her the day she'd left for the colonies. It was on a chain now, but he still recognized the jewel.

In shock, he quickly glanced up at her. "You kept it? After all this time?"

Meeting his eyes, she gave a sad smile. "Of course, I did. My best friend gave it to me." She pressed the jewel into his hand. "But you should have it back now."

Not understanding, he frowned. "But I gave it to you. I don't want it back."

With a sigh, she looked down at it. "Your grandmother gave this to you, Ichabod."

"I'm aware of that, Katrina," he replied stiffly as he suddenly realized where this conversation was headed. "I was there."

Her gaze came back to his. "You and I both know she gave it to you for a reason. You should take it back."

"No," he bit out in agitation.

"Ichabod-"

"I said, no!"

Regret for yelling at her immediately entered him as his eyes slammed shut, but he was simply unable to contain himself.

"You have to," came her soft reply. "You're going to meet someone one day, someone to love, and you should give it to her. It's why your grandmother gave it to you."

Opening his eyes, he shot her a hard look. "I already did."

"Ichabod-"

Standing abruptly, he tossed the jewel to the bed beside her.

"If you don't want it, throw it away, sell it. I don't care. But I'm _not_ taking it back."

Her eyes filled with sympathy which only furthered his agitation.

"You're going to find someone, Ichabod-"

"I already did, Katrina!" His patience was slipping. "Why can't you understand that?"

"I'm getting married," she choked out.

He stared at her incredulously. "And is that supposed to make me stop loving you?"

Tears streaming down her face, she shook her head. "Don't say that."

"What? That I love you?" He sighed. "Katrina, I've loved you since I was a boy. I might not have known exactly what I was doing when I gave that to you, but I did know that it felt right."

Moving to sit next to her once more, he gently reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "I'm sorry I'm hurting you, but I simply cannot keep this inside of me any longer. My mother told me I'd find another to love, while my father tried to beat it out of me, but neither worked." Leaning his forehead against hers, he spoke softly. "I love you, Katrina van Tassel. I always have and I fear I always will."

After a moment of silence, her hand came up to touch his face.

"I wish things were different, that I could give you what you want."

"You can. If it's what you want, too, then...Katrina, I love you."

Her eyes fell closed. "You have to stop saying that. It's only going to make things worse."

Frustration began to set in once more as he pulled back and grabbed her hands. "How can things get any worse? You're marring someone else."

Her gaze found his, an overwhelming sadness permeating her features.

"Katrina, please. He doesn't love you."

She sighed, her own frustration seeping out of her. "You think I don't know that? That I don't dread my wedding day? The thought of that man touching me in any way sickens me."

Swallowing down his own revulsion, he shook his head. "You don't have to marry him."

"Yes, I do. If for no other reason than to stop myself from..." Her eyes fell to their hands, still tangled tightly together. "I have to marry him, Ichabod."

"Why? Tell me why," he plead desperately.

"I've already told you why," she whispered heatedly. "I can't allow myself to be distracted or conflicted with emotions concerning you, Ichabod. The results could be disastrous."

He frowned, slight disbelief filling him. "For you to love me would be disastrous? That's ridiculous, Katrina."

"Is it?" she asked quickly. "The power that we possess. It's not something to be treated lightly, Ichabod." Her green eyes bore into his. "The fate of the world is more important than two individual's feelings." All the air left her body. "I'm sorry."

For a moment, he remained silent, turning his gaze to the wall across the room. She didn't have many personal items on display to distract him. Though, there was a small picture of her mother on her bedside table. He'd been right as a boy. Katrina had grown to look like her.

Beautiful.

"Do you ever wish you were different? Normal, like everyone else?"

She laughed lightly. "You mean, ordinary?"

With a smile, his gaze fell to her small hand in his as he ran a thumb over her knuckles.

"You couldn't be ordinary if you tried."

After a pause, she whispered, "No, I've never wanted to be any different than I am. I've always loved helping people, being special...at least, until now."

He slowly nodded before picking up the necklace he'd carelessly tossed, allowing it to dangle from his fingers. "Don't make me take it back." Eyes turning to hers, he whispered, "Please...Keep it."

She continued staring at him a moment longer until her eyes fell to the necklace. The thought that she would refuse entered him, but it was dashed away as she bit her lip, completely entrancing him, before turning to pull her hair out of the way, exposing her slender neck to his gaze.

Slightly surprised at her gesture, he hesitantly lifted the necklace over her head, his nerves causing his hands to shake as he settled it about her neck and clumsily fumbled with the clasp. As he managed to accomplish his task, she turned back to him, his stomach twinging as a result.

She was beyond beautiful.

His body completely tensed as her gaze fell to his mouth and she ever so slowly closed the distance between them.

If there were such a thing as a perfect kiss, this had to be it. The gentle touch of her lips to his sent an extraordinary sensation throughout his body.

When she pulled back just enough to let her lips brush over his, he finally took in the breath he was sure he'd been without for quite some time.

"Make love to me, Ichabod."

This time, he was sure he wasn't breathing.

Eyes darting all about her face, he shook his head, his brain not fully understanding. "I thought...we can't."

"We already have," she whispered. "And it was something I'll never forget. But it was rushed and just once I want to experience what it's like to be truly loved. Before I enter into a loveless marriage that will never have that." She shook her head. "I know it's selfish of me to ask, but..." Her fingers slid to his neck, gently caressing him as they wove through his hair. "Please, Ichabod...make love to me."

Heart racing, he considered her words, knowing he wouldn't refuse her. Being with her was too much of a temptation, especially with the knowledge that she would soon be far from his reach.

When her lips lightly brushed over his once more, he found his will failing him at her soft touch.

Needing no further encouragement, he closed the remaining distance between them, fully intending to do exactly as his love had asked.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I was asked so nicely, here's the next chapter :)

The only sound about the room was the soft sounds of their breathing and the gentle breeze as it rustled the curtains of her bedroom window. Hours must have passed by now. Her refusal to allow him to part from her was one he gladly gave into, resulting in playful kisses, light naps, and bouts of lovemaking transpiring at various times.

Every second of this experience was steadily burning itself in his memory.

His eyes slid closed as he took in the feel of her bare body against his, their legs an entwined mess beneath the blankets that had shockingly yet to leave the bed. Currently, his hand was still buried in her hair, while hers continued a light stroking along his chest, her fingers drawing small designs over his warm skin.

"I never want to move from this moment," she whispered as she pressed herself even further into him, her soft lips finding his neck.

Unable to contain his smile, he turned on his side to lie face to face with her.

"I'll surely never forget it. "

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Of course, you won't. Your memory forgets nothing."

Eyes following his hand as it slid up her side to rest at her neck over the small sapphire, he whispered, "I don't need an eidetic memory to remember this moment."

That earned a smile from her. "I suppose not."

The way her red hair fell in long waves over her shoulders, her skin practically pulsing with her breathing, resulted in him becoming completely mesmerized.

"You're the most exquisite creature I've ever seen." His thumb drug over her lips. "I can't imagine anything more beautiful, except..." He allowed his words to die off as his eyes left hers.

"What?"

"It's nothing," he quickly replied.

She moved closer to him, dropping her chin to catch his eyes. "Tell me."

Slightly embarrassed, he attempted to laugh it off. "I just-I've had dreams before."

He could see that instead of staving off her curiosity, he was only deepening it as her eyebrows rose.

"About?" She prodded.

Rolling his eyes, he sighed. "About you and...a little girl."

Her hand at his neck stilled and he found suddenly himself afraid to meet her eyes.

"A little girl?"

Nodding, he shifted uncomfortably.

"What did she look like?"

His eyes jumped to hers, finding that she had a small smile on her face. With a sigh, he recalled the dream, his own smile making an appearance.

"Red hair."

She chuckled. "Of course you'd imagine her to have this awful hair."

In answer, he allowed his hand to slide through the abundance of red. "I love your hair. It's beautiful."

"Enough," she interjected, with a light shove to his shoulder. "What else?"

Smiling, he continued as his fingers ghosted over her arm. "Pale skin." Her breath hitch at his touch. "Blue eyes."

Her hand slid from his neck to just above his eyes. "Blue?"

Slightly self-conscious, he nodded. "Yes."

"What's her name?"

Frowning at her question, he shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose she doesn't have one."

She regarded him with a playful expression. "Every little girl needs a name."

With a chuckle, he shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"We should name her," she said, excitedly sitting up and facing him.

"Katrina..."

He knew what she was doing.

"How about Charlotte? That was your grandmother's name."

Defeated by her persistence, he sighed. "No, she didn't seem like a Charlotte."

"Ok... Helen."

Confused, he frowned at her. There were no Helen's in either of their families as far as he knew.

"Helen?"

A sneaky smile crept across her face. "After our first year professor. I do believe you took a slight liking to her."

His eyes widened. "I absolutely did not!"

"You stuttered every time she called your name for roll."

"That was only because-"

Her eyebrows rose. "Because...?"

"Because you were sitting in front of me and she said your name first," he blurted out quickly. "I was always so distracted by you that I would stutter out my answer when you turned to look at me. Satisfied?"

Avoiding her eyes, he prayed she wouldn't laugh at his silliness.

"Martha?"

His eyes settled back on hers to find her smiling sweetly at him.

Relieved, he let out the breath he'd been holding. "No, I loved my mother, but her name was far too common."

She rolled her eyes. "Then, you pick something."

"I don't know," he whispered, as he sat up and leaned into her, placing a gentle kiss to her shoulder with the hope that he could distract her.

She laughed and pulled away before pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Come on, Ichabod. I know you've thought about it. Tell me."

He was afraid he'd upset her if he told her the name he associated with the girl.

"No, you should pick another."

Leaning forward, she lightly kissed him. "Tell me."

Inhaling a deep breath, then releasing it, he relented. "Cassie. Well, Cassandra, but Cassie."

She was staring intently at him now, so he rushed with his explanation.

"I'm sorry. I just... I always thought your name was so perfect... and your mother chose it. So, I thought she should have the other name your mother chose."

He felt horrible as he saw a tear make its way down her face. Bringing his hand up to wipe it away, he cupped her face.

"Katrina, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have told you."

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

Shocked, he found himself confused. "It is?"

Her eyes fell to her hands in her lap as they tugged at the blanket covering her lower body. "After Cassie drowned, my mother never spoke her name again, so neither did I, but that was wrong of me. She was my twin. I'll always carry a part of her inside of me and I shouldn't neglect that anymore." Releasing a breath, she smiled. "It's the perfect name for our little girl."

His heart stopped. "Our little girl?"

Laughing, a bright smile lit her face as she glanced up to him."Red hair and blue eyes. Was she someone else's?"

"No!" he responded a little too quickly.

"Well, then, she was ours." A thoughtful look took over her face. "I can almost imagine her."

Pulling her close, he kissed her, thankful that his bringing up her lost sister hadn't upset her too much. "I assure you, she's quite beautiful."

"I wonder who she would be more like? You or me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, she'd definitely be like you, dragging some poor, unsuspecting boy into all sorts of trouble."

She laughed. "As if you were ever unsuspecting. You knew my flare for danger and disobedience. I have little doubt that you flew into every adventure with me fully aware that there would be severe consequences if we were caught."

Eyes wide, he shook his head. "I had no idea what you were going to come up with next. Like climbing to the roof of the church and dropping things on passerby's, or stealing that loaf of bread from Mr. Hubbard's window sill."

"He was a rude, greedy man and he called me a scoundrel!" she exclaimed quickly. "I couldn't let him get away with that!"

Chuckling, he added, "You _were_ a little scoundrel and a terrible influence, as well."

A small smile filled her suddenly more serious features as she stroked a hand over his eyes.

"I love you, Ichabod."

His eyes widened slightly. She hadn't said it before. He'd known she did, but to actually hear her say it sent a feeling through him unlike any other.

"I love you, too, Katrina."

With a bright smile, she tugged his mouth back to hers.

After a moment of gentle kisses, she pushed at his shoulders until he was lying on his back with her hovering over him.

The sight of his love so beautiful and exposed just for him sent a rush of desire and admiration through him.

When her soft lips began a light trail along his chest, steadily moving in a downward direction, his body slightly shivered beneath her.

Inexperienced as he was, he was fairly positive she was about to give him another wonderful memory to cherish.


	15. Chapter 15

"Ichabod!"

Quickly turning, he found Abraham walking toward him. Unable to contain his curse, he conjured a tight smile upon his face.

It had been three weeks since he and Katrina's unforgettable experience and he'd done his best to avoid Abraham in that time. He felt guilty for betraying his friend in such a way, even though he treasured the experience at the same time.

"Where have you been, my friend? I've not seen you in quite some time."

"Here and there," he mumbled absentmindedly. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, yes," Abraham said, nodding enthusiastically. "If you will, I'm in need of your help with a matter."

"Of course."

"Wonderful! Follow me."

As they fell into pace beside each other, Abraham threw him a glance. "I can't tell you how exited I am for the wedding."

Giving another tight smile, Ichabod nodded. "I'm sure."

Abraham shook his head. "She's absolutely beautiful, is she not?"

He had to suppress the urge to groan. Why did they have to talk about her?

"Yes, you're a very lucky man, Abraham."

"I am, aren't I?"

With a roll of his eyes, he chose not to respond, lest he fall to the ground and begin demanding the world suddenly become fair.

"Honestly, though, her beauty is the only desirable quality she seems to have."

Casting a confused look to his friend, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, the woman is completely talentless," he said, with slight irritation in his voice.

He couldn't help his frown as he paused in his walk. "You can't be serious, Abraham. Katrina's one of the most talented women I've ever met."

Abraham gave him an incredulous look. "And what talent is it that you've seen? She doesn't sew or play any sort of instrument. No writing. No painting." He threw a hand up. "I can't imagine what it was she did as a girl."

As he took in his friend's irritated expression, he narrowed his eyes. "She's a nurse, Abraham, surely that accounts for something with you."

"Oh, no," Abraham replied quickly, resuming his walk. "Just as soon as we are wed, I'll be putting a stop to that. No wife of mine is going to be working, especially not in a place such as that."

His disbelief was growing deeper by the second. He'd know Abraham was vain, but this?

"She loves working at the infirmary. You can't take that from her."

Abraham cast him a brief glance. "And what would you know of what she loves, Ichabod? You just met her."

Taking a moment, he considered his response. "Well, it's rather obvious in the way she speaks of it."

With a huff, Abraham nodded. "Yes, her outspokenness is another issue we'll have to address. She's been given far too much leeway already."

"You intend to take her voice as well?" he asked, growing increasingly angry.

Abraham, however, didn't seem to notice. "She's headstrong. A very unattractive quality in a woman. I'm sure once she begins her lessons on how to act in the company of others, she'll be much more of a delight. My mother is quite looking forward to teaching her the proper ways of women in society."

At the end of his patience, he threw a hard glare at his friend. "Abraham-"

"Ah, Mr. van Brunt. I'm so happy you could make it."

Glancing up the steps of the house they'd come up to, he took in the rather portly man before him.

Abraham smiled broadly. "Yes, of course. Come Ichabod, wait until you see."

* * *

As cruel fate would have it, the help Abraham needed was that of picking out jewelry for Katrina to present her. If only his power as a Witness could make him disappear from this moment. His anger from earlier was still simmering just below the surface as he looked anywhere but at the man who was about to ruin Katrina.

"What do you think, Ichabod?"

Pulled from his musings, Ichabod glanced at the overly extravagant piece Abraham was holding up.

Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Ichabod smiled. "It's a lovely piece."

"It's the best one," Abraham replied in a rather annoyed tone.

"It's not my place."

"Ichabod, this is important."

Realizing he was not getting out if this, he looked at the pieces with a sigh.

"I'm not sure it suits Katrina."

Spotting the perfect one, he picked it up.

"This one. It embodies her elegance, simplicity, beauty, and _restraint_."

The last part he directed at the jeweler who was clearly out to make a sale.

After a moment, Abraham sighed and snapped his fingers at the man. "Very well." Pointing a finger at him, he continued, "I'm trusting you."

Smiling over his smothering anger, Ichabod curtly nodded.

* * *

"Turn around, darling."

As she acquiesced to his request, Abraham brought the jewel up and over her head, allowing it to settle around her neck. When her eyes fell to it, they darted about for a moment, before coming to his. He couldn't help giving her a small smile, which she returned in kind.

His smile, however, faded as Abraham twirled her hair around his fingers inciting a near groan from him. How he hated that man touching her.

"It's perfect," came Katrina's reply to the gift as she turned to Abraham with a tight smile. "It's exactly what I would have chosen."

"I knew it would be."

The urge to roll his eyes was pushed down as he instead allowed his gaze to fall to the wooden floor, wishing more than anything that he could disappear. Perhaps, he'd spent enough time here to appease Abraham. Now, he just had to come up with a polite excuse to leave.

"Ah, Rutledge is here, with news from the crown," Abraham said with a broad smile as his hand slid to Katrina's back. "Word is they're sending troops to disrupt Congress."

With a kiss to her cheek that had Ichabod ready to strangle him, he departed with his parents, leaving him with the opportunity to speak with her.

Her gaze danced about the room as she maintained her tight smile before she turned to him, holding out her hand. Accepting it, they began walking amongst the other guests.

"You picked this out, didn't you?"

He glanced at her. "Sorry?"

"Abraham's taste is far more excessive. He's not bought anything of the kind for me."

"Perhaps he's learning," he said teasingly, knowing he wasn't fooling her one bit.

When she raised her eyebrows, he admitted, "He caught me earlier."

"Did he? You agreed to go with him to pick out jewelry for me?"

Sighing, he glanced to the man in question across the room. "Well, at the time, I didn't realize what I was agreeing to."

She turned to smile at a lady that passed by. "At least you prevented him from adorning me with yet another ridiculous gift." She glanced down to her dress. "I swear the dressmaker used every bit of lace she had to make this. It's ridiculous."

He smiled, his eyes never straying from her face. "You're beautiful."

The side of her mouth twitched with a smile before she shook her head. "You wouldn't think that if you saw my shoes. They have pearls on them, Ichabod. _Pearls_."

Chuckling, he glanced about the room, not wanting to be caught staring at her too long. To start a rumor about town would not bode well for any of them.

"Most women would be happy with such gifts of affection."

"Most women aren't in love with someone other than their fiancé."

His eyes darted back to her surprised. After their day spent in her home, they'd both agreed to be careful with where they found themselves. To be alone with each other could lead to consequences neither were willing to face. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, she _was_ marrying Abraham. To continue in a less than professional fashion would be unwise.

He wasn't sure about her but it was almost unbearable for him. He'd taken to avoiding her nearly as much as he avoided Abraham. To be in her presence and not be able to reach out and touch her was too much.

To hear her admit her love aloud, however, stole his breath.

"I thought we agreed not to say that anymore," he whispered despondently.

She darted a glance to Abraham, who was distracted with his politics, before stepping closer to him, her scent filling his senses at her nearness.

"Are you angry with me?"

Frowning, he shook his head. "Of course not. I just...it hurts, Katrina."

Her eyes shone with her sorrow. "I know. I am so sorry."

With the wedding tomorrow, he decided to make a last plea. "Don't marry him."

"Ichabod-"

"He has plans for you, Katrina. He's going to take everything you hold dear."

"I know," she said with a sigh. "I've always known that."

His frown deepened as he allowed another glance about the room. "Then, why must you marry him?"

The frustrated noise that left her prompted his eyes to find hers once more. She looked less than happy. "We've discussed this."

"No," he whispered heatedly. "You said you couldn't be with me and while I don't like that answer, I understand it. What I don't understand is why you are allowing this to happen. Why can't you simply remain unwed?"

She brought a hand to her eyes before turning from him to face toward Abraham, who was still across the room.

"Because you'll never leave me be. If I leave him, there will be nothing to stop us from seizing the opportunity to be together."

"You say that as if it's such a bad thing."

Her eyes came back to his, her own frown forming. "I can't do this again. We agreed-"

"No, you gave an order and I followed it," he bit out.

"Ichabod, please-"

"I have to go."

He turned to leave, but her hand caught his arm.

"Don't do this."

When he turned back to her, he found her eyes darting about the room with quiet panic.

He shook his head. "I'm not the one doing anything." Her eyes met his. "You are."

With that, he continued his path out the door.


	16. Chapter 16

The dreaded day was here.

As he stood in Abraham's family home, he did his best to control his breathing. He was about to watch the woman he loved above all else marry a man who could care less about her. The feeling as though he might actually pass out began to fill him.

"Ichabod." At his name, he turned and found Reverend Knapp coming to stand next to him. "She's asking for you."

"Katrina?" he asked with a bit of hope.

"Yes, she has ordered me to come and fetch you."

Nodding, he started toward the stairs, but the Reverend's hand at his arm halted him.

"She has to marry him."

Staring at the man in confusion, he frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean." Stepping closer, the man glanced about the room seemingly to make sure no one was in hearing distance. "She _must_ marry him. If you go up there as she has asked, you and I both know the likelihood of her going through with this is limited."

Pulling his arm from the man he considered his friend, Ichabod frowned. "That's Katrina's decision."

The Reverend shook his head. "If she doesn't marry him, she will lose everything. Her father will disown her, Abraham will sully her name, and her coven will cast her out."

"Why would her coven do that?" he asked confusedly.

"Because you are the Witness and she is your protector. The reasons for her denial of you have not changed simply because her wedding day is upon her. The coven would never accept the two of you, not with your combined power. She would be ruined, perhaps even killed. Is that what you want?"

"Of course not!" he bit out, feeling his anger beginning to simmer.

The man sighed. "Katrina is like a daughter to me. I care for her; and if she were a normal woman and you a normal man, I would tell you to go to her and run." Alfred fixed him with a sorrowful, yet pointed look. "But you're not normal. You have a destiny Mr. Crane."

"You have no right to dictate out lives," he whispered heatedly.

Alfred shook his head. "That is not my intention. This decision is ultimately yours and yours alone. All I ask is that you consider the consequences not only to Katrina, but to the world as well."

With that, the man turned from him and moved away, leaving him even more confused and lightheaded than he'd been before.

* * *

As he stood outside the door, he felt his heart begin to tear into a thousand pieces. Uncertainty was his foremost feeling. Could he actually see her today and not drop to his knees begging her to stop this madness?

Gathering all the strength he could muster, he entered the room and felt his breath catch.

"Katrina, you're..."

Beautiful wasn't the word. There was no word.

"Ichabod," she whispered. It was mere moments before her arms were around him. "I can't do this. I can't."

Closing his eyes, he held her tightly for a moment before releasing her. "You have to."

Her hands reached up to cup his face. "No," she said, desperation in her voice. "We could run away together. Far away. Where no one would ever find us."

The memory of saying those exact words to her the day he found out she was leaving him as a child sprung to his mind.

With a sigh, he covered her hands with his own. "If I thought that would give you peace, I would, my love. I would take you so far from here."

Her tears broke him. Katrina never cried.

"I would be happy. We could be happy and have a family." Her hands slid down his chest. "We could have that little girl and I would give you as many children as you wanted. Ichabod, please. _Please_ , take me away."

Her fingers were now grasping his coat so tightly he thought she might actually rip it.

Hands laying against her neck, he whispered, "Katrina, I love you more than anything and I want nothing more than for you to have everything you've ever wanted."

"Then, give it to me," she begged almost desperately. "I want _you_. I want to marry _you_ , Ichabod."

When she reached up and kissed him, he felt his knees nearly give out. The taste of her was so sweet and her body against his was so soft. He wanted nothing more than to do exactly as she asked, but Alfred Knapp's words haunted him.

Indulging in what he knew would be their last kiss a moment longer, he gently pulled from her, the wetness of her tears still on his face.

"Katrina-"

"Please, don't," she whispered. "Please don't say it."

Closing his eyes, he placed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm so sorry, my love."

"You said you wanted this. You begged me not to marry him."

Tenderly cupping her face, he shook his head. "We can't be that selfish. You would never forgive me if I gave in now."

After a moment of staring at him, she sucked in a breath, then pushed him away, turning her back to him. Her struggle was visible even then. Her shoulders heaving with her heavy breathing as dropped her head to her hands to wipe at her tears.

"Inform Alfred I'll be down momentarily."

His heart dropped at her words. They were cold and formal, bearing nothing of the love she'd held just moments earlier.

Nodding to her even though she couldn't see, he hastily exited the room. Once the door was shut, he leaned his back against it and tried to calm his breathing, the impossibility of this situation weighing heavily on him. There was no way possible this could be right.

With a last sigh, he pushed himself from the door and made his way down the stairs, dread in his every step.

* * *

Standing beside Abraham, Ichabod plastered a fake smile to his face. Alfred was watching him, but he avoided the man's gaze. He'd done enough and Ichabod neither wanted, nor needed the man's sympathetic looks.

When she finally appeared, he imagined she was an angel. That was the only explanation.

Everyone in the room was smiling and whispering, no doubt about her overwhelming beauty. He couldn't blame them. Even through the overdone dress and overly fixed hair, she was still mesmerizing. He never could place his finger on just what it was about her that disabled his ability to think properly when in her presence. He supposed it was just her. She was simply Katrina.

Once she was standing before Abraham, Ichabod tuned everything out. He didn't want this in his memory. Resolutely finding a window, he began an arduous task of staring out of it, all the while imagining he was anywhere else.

The guests moved about the house. Most were highly intoxicated and Ichabod considered himself well on the way to being the same.

As soon as the ceremony had reached its conclusion, he'd immediately searched out the nearest bottle of rum, fully intent on drowning himself in his misery.

"Ichabod, my friend. Are you enjoying yourself?"

Abraham, with Katrina in tow, came to a stop before him.

Looking anywhere but at her, he answered, "I'm just wonderful."

As he tossed back his umpteenth glass of rum, he signaled for another.

"Well, it is the party of the year," proudly boasted Abraham.

When the maid brought a tray of drinks by, Abraham grabbed two glasses along with him, for himself and Katrina, and raised his glass in toast. "To the future."

Touching his glass to his friends', Ichabod wasted no time in downing the entire contents of the drink.

"Better slow down there, Ichabod. You'll be too far gone to enjoy the company of a lady or two tonight. They'd be greatly disappointed."

Unconsciously, his eyes found hers and locked. "They'll recover."

Her plastered on expression of happiness wavered for a moment before reclaiming itself.

"Such a shame you'll miss out on the fun." Abraham looked to Katrina. "I know I can't wait for this party to end," he said with no room for misinterpretation as his hand slid to her lower back. "Can you, darling?"

She gave him a thin smile. "Of course."

Gritting his teeth, Ichabod signaled the maid forward again. She tried to hand him a glass, but he grabbed the entire bottle, instead, and popped the lid.

He noticed Katrina jump at the sound, but he decided to begin ignoring her.

"Katrina, darling."

The three of them turned to Mr. van Tassel as he came to a stop beside her, placing a kiss to her cheek.

"Father."

The man smiled broadly at Abraham. "Congratulations, Abraham."

"Thank you, Sir. I must say, I'm quite thrilled to finally be wed to your daughter."

Baltus nodded. "Oh, I imagine so. This has been in the works for a while now."

For his part, Ichabod wanted to leave immediately.

"Baltus, this is Ichabod Crane, my partner."

At Abraham's gesture, Baltus turned to him with a frown. "Ichabod Crane?"

He noticed Katrina tense at the question. Her reaction was understandable as he and Baltus had yet to cross paths since he'd entered the new word. The last time he'd laid eyes on the man was the day Katrina had departed for the colonies as a girl.

"Yes Sir," he said with a weak smile.

"Have we met? I could almost swear I've heard that name before."

Before he could answer, Abraham spoke. "Perhaps you've heard me speak of him, Baltus."

The man looked between them. "No, that's not it."

Katrina laid a hand on her father's arm. "Father, I believe your wife is looking for you."

"Yes, yes, of course."

The man gave him a final odd look before making his way across the room.

Katrina gave a light chuckle. "My father thinks he knows everyone."

Abraham nodded. "Too true, darling."

When Abraham once again resumed his claim on Katrina's arm, the urge to leave entered him more fully than ever.

Having had more than enough of this party, he patted Abraham on the back, then bowed with his hands extended out before Katrina.

"Enjoy your night, Mrs. van Brunt."

He ignored the hurt that flashed across her face as he brought the bottle to his lips and walked away, fully intent upon attempting to forget this night.


	17. Chapter 17

It was too bright. That was the first thing he noticed upon waking, to be followed quickly by an aching head.

As he sat up, he was slightly surprised to find himself on the floor of his quarters rather than the bed.

Bringing a hand to his head, he took a moment to gather his bearings before he pushed himself up to adjust his clothing and stumble outside.

"Ah, Crane," said one of his fellow soldiers. "Finally among the living. I thought you were going to sleep the entire day away. You sure came pretty close."

Glancing up to the sky, he saw that it was, in fact, well past midday.

"Rum will do that," he muttered.

With a nod to his comrade, he began making his way to the bakery. He was starving and in desperate need of something besides alcohol in his system.

Nearly there, he was slightly surprised to hear his name.

As he turned, he came very near to toppling right over and gave a curse as he knocked his head against the post.

Upon seeing who had called out to him, he rolled his eyes with the suppression to turn on his heel and continue to his destination. The thought that he most likely would never make it there without injuring himself further added to his decision to stay put.

"Perfect," he mumbled.

Abraham released Katrina's arm to place a hand to his shoulder to steady him.

"I told you to watch yourself last night."

Shrugging Abraham's hand off, he instead balanced himself on a nearby barrel.

"Just how many bottles did you consume?"

Decidedly annoyed with his preset company, he rolled his eyes again. "I lost count."

He gestured between them whilst doing his best to hold himself up. "Aren't you supposed to be consummating yourselves or something?"

She was staring at him in shock, but he found himself unable to care as his mood was far too foul to worry over anyone else's feeling but his own at the moment.

"Katrina's not feeling well. So, we've come to town to acquire sustenance."

"Perfect," he mumbled.

"I must say, Ichabod, I thought I knew you to be a better drunk."

Gritting his teeth, he glared at Abraham. "The things you don't know about me are innumerable, my friend."

The fool laughed, actually thinking he was joking.

"Come, join us for dinner."

He glanced to Katrina, but as soon as their eyes met, her gaze quickly fell to his boots.

"I wouldn't want to intrude on the happy newlyweds."

Abraham grabbed his arm. "Nonsense! Let's sober you up."

With a sigh, he allowed himself to be pulled away, not that he had the energy to resist.

* * *

As they sat around the table, Ichabod felt his mind clearing at the concoction Katrina had mixed for him, reality finally beginning to set in.

"What are your plans now, Ichabod?" asked Abraham. "Do you intend to remain in Sleepy Hollow much longer?"

"No."

Abraham frowned. "No? But our missions for the Commander have ceased for the time being. Where else would you go?"

"Anywhere but here," he mumbled.

"Have you grown tired of our small town already?"

Catching Katrina's eyes, he answered lowly, "I just need to be somewhere else."

There were so many things in those green eyes of hers. With his senses returning to him, he found himself feeling ashamed of his actions the night before and this morning. He'd been completely disrespectful and inconsiderate toward her.

"I wish you would stay," replied Abraham. "I so enjoy your company. Besides, now that I'm married, we need to set about finding you a wife of your own."

Sighing, he lifted a glass of water to his lips as his eyes, once again, found hers. She bore no outward expression other than the small smile she maintained, but he didn't need a reaction. He knew exactly what she was feeling.

"I'm afraid I'm not in the market for a wife at this time, Abraham."

Abraham chuckled. "Don't be absurd, Ichabod. You must find a wife as soon as possible. With your level of intelligence and skill, it would be a crime not to bring children into the world." He cast a glance to Katrina. "Katrina and I are already trying and we've not been married a full day."

Another tight smile crept over her mouth as she gave a quick glance to him. "Abraham, I'm sure Ichabod doesn't care to hear this."

Abraham shot her an annoyed look, while maintaining an outwardly polite smile for the rest of the building. "Don't speak for Ichabod, Katrina. He'll let me know if he doesn't wish to hear what I'm saying."

Her eyes fell to the table, a defeated expression filling her features.

Anger filled him. "I don't wish to hear what you're saying, Abraham. Perhaps you should take into consideration your wife's thoughts. It would go far in adjusting some of your rather irritating habits."

Abraham stared at him in shock as Katrina's jaw flexed almost imperceptibly with a smile.

After a moment of silence passed over the table, Abraham spoke. "Perhaps the next time drinks are served, you should take into consideration declining, Ichabod. Your drunken nature is rather disturbing in its overactive imagination."

Rolling his eyes, he lifted his glass again.

"Would you give me a moment? I must speak with the owner about his lack of service."

Ever into business, Abraham left them alone at the table.

With a glance to Abraham as he moved to the other side of the diner, he rose from his seat and moved to occupy Abraham's seat next to her.

As he attempted to find a start to his apology, he observed her as she stared at the table cloth before her.

"I am so sorry," he said quietly.

Her jaw was shifting back and forth and he knew she was holding it all in; whether it was anger or sadness, however, escaped him.

"There's no excuse for my behavior. I just... I didn't want to think about it. So, I got myself so out of sorts that I wouldn't have to."

She still wouldn't look at him.

Glancing around, he knew no one could see his hands as he slid one into hers.

She attempted to pull it away, but he gripped her tightly, refusing to allow her to.

"I know you didn't ask for this, nor did you want it. I acted as though I were the one who was suffering when it was you who was being forced into marriage. I was acting childish while you were..." He couldn't stand her not looking at him. "Katrina, please..."

"Stop apologizing." Finally, she turned to him, her eyes swimming with emotion. "You have no idea-" Her voice cut off. "I thought about you the entire time. I tried to block him out and only see you, but I..."

She looked down to their entwined hands. He hadn't noticed it before, but she had his sapphire clutched in her palm. As she allowed it to slip slightly, he saw the angry red indention of it, as if she'd held onto it too tightly.

"I wanted you with me. I thought if I could just have a piece of you with me, it would be ok."

Frowning, he glanced around once more, before looking back at her. "He didn't-he didn't hurt you, did he? I swear if he did, I'll kill him."

She shook her head. "No, he was... I would have preferred him to hurt me."

"Don't say that. You don't wish that."

She wouldn't look at him. "Yes, I do. He... he wasn't cruel, nor was he kind. He was just there. But I...he still attempted to... he made me..."

Her words fell away as her gaze darted about the room frantically.

His breathing slowed as realization dawned on him. "Oh."

Her eyes finally came to his. "Please, don't hate me."

Releasing her hand, he leaned against the table with his head in his hands.

She'd enjoyed it.

"Ichabod, I didn't mean to...I didn't want..." A low sob fell from her. "I couldn't stop it."

His eyes fell closed, his vision having begun to swim. "I have to leave. I can't stay here. I can't be here with you and him. I'll either murder him, or kill myself."

"I'm so sorry."

Swallowing hard, he looked back to her and said the only thing he could.

"I love you."

She looked as broken as he felt. "I love you, too. More than anything."

"Don't apologize."

"Ichabod-"

His hand grabbed hers again. "Don't. Abraham is...despite his flaws, he's a good man and I believe, in his own way, he loves you. At least, he does to the best of his ability."

That ability, however, was severely lacking, but that didn't need to be said.

"I don't love him. I never have. My heart belongs to you, Ichabod. It always will."

He couldn't help but smile at her. She was so beautiful.

After taking a moment to once again etch her into his memory, he squeezed her hand that was holding the jewel.

"Do you remember when I gave this to you?"

"Yes."

"After you got on that boat, I thought my world had ended. I threw myself at my mother and cried for three solid days." Taking a deep breath, he continued, "But it didn't. Life went on. I didn't like it and I felt completely alone, but I lived. And thirteen years later, I got on a similar ship to the one that I thought had ended any happiness I could ever have and I came here." He smiled. "Then, I found you. My lost happiness returned and the world seemed bright once more."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Katrina, you're life isn't over. Believe me, I know it feels as though it is, but you have so much to live for." It tore at his heart to say it, but he had to. "You can have a child."

"No," she said with a firm shake of her head. "I won't give him a child, no matter what he thinks."

"Then, don't. Give yourself one."

Her face filled with a frown. "You can't want that, Ichabod."

"I want you to be happy," he admitted quietly.

She shook her head. "I have my coven and the world to protect. I don't need happiness."

Squeezing her hand, he sighed. " _I_ need you to have happiness."

"So you won't feel guilty for leaving me?" she asked accusingly.

"So my world won't end again."

Her eyes left his to rest on their hands, the jewel still in her palm. "I won't promise to do it."

"Promise me you'll at least try," he pleaded desperately. "Please, my love."

After a moment, her green eyes returned to his once more. "My love for you will never cease, Ichabod."

With another gentle squeeze to her hand, he whispered, "Nor mine for you."


	18. Chapter 18

**1778 (28 yrs old) (5 years later)**

"Well, that was difficult."

"Would you get down before you get your head blown off?" he shouted as another blast sent debris flying in all directions.

"Well, Crane, I must say, this was a brilliant idea."

"Shh," he hushed. "Wait for the next shot and while they're reloading, we'll head for the river."

"The river? Are you mad? It's freezing!"

"Well, Thomas, you're welcome to stay and see if they're willing to negotiate."

The boy acted as though he were thinking about it when the next round fired. Before he had even risen, Thomas was already a good five feet ahead of him.

It was only a couple of yards, but their enemy had reloaded quicker than he had predicted and were already firing on them once more. As the bark of trees bit into his skin at the enemy's near hits, he leapt and suddenly found himself immersed in the freezing water.

The shock of the icy depths took a moment to overcome, but seeing Thomas already half way across propelled him forward as he swam after him.

"Thanks for waiting," he mumbled as he pulled himself out of the water.

Thomas threw him an irritated look. "I'm too cold to argue with you. Now that we've escaped the bullets, we're going to freeze to death."

"Calm down," he said as he began walking.

"Calm down?! This is insanity. Why did I volunteer? I'll tell you why! I thought it'd be kind of fun and maybe, just maybe, I'd meet a pretty girl. But no, instead, I'm stuck with you."

"Thomas, would you please shut up?"

"Seeing as how I'm about to die a slow, frozen death, I think I'll keep going," he went on. "This is all your fault. You know I've never even been with a girl? That's right. Never. I've never drank either. My mother would kill me herself all because you'd told her. So, I haven't done it. And now, I'll never get the chance, all because you thought it'd be a good idea to jump in the freezing cold river in the middle of nowhere." Thomas threw his hands up. "We're going to die out here and our bodies will never be found. We'll be eaten by starving anim-"

"Thomas!" Ichabod shouted, spinning on the boy. As he held up a hand and pointed, the boy followed his hand to the steeple in the distance.

"A church?"

"A town."

With that, he resumed his trek, picking up his pace. If they remained in these clothes too much longer, they'd surely die a 'slow, frozen death' as Thomas had so eloquently put it.

"What town is that?"

"Sleepy Hollow," Ichabod answered, with some measure of dread.

He hadn't been back here in five years. The war had taken him far and wide in his missions for the General, but his requests to not be sent to Sleepy Hollow had always been granted.

After their wedding, Abraham had taken to different tasks. Thankfully, those tasks hadn't included returning as his partner. That duty had fallen to Thomas West, a young man of eighteen from a small town in Pennsylvania. He was a smart enough boy. However, Thomas' mouth did have a tendency to run over time, often resulting in his own desire to knock the boy upside the head just to achieve some peace and quiet.

His lack of appearances in Sleepy Hollow wasn't to say he hadn't seen the reason for his avoidance of the town. She'd made various appearances at camp. He'd also seen her at a few coven meetings that he'd been near enough to attend, the war bringing more evil to the colonies than previously imaginable. They never spoke, though. If they needed information passed to each other, Alfred would tend to it. It was simply easier that way.

At times during their encounters, he'd feel her gaze on him, but she would quickly glance away just as soon as their eyes met. Her hasty turn never stopped him from catching the longing in her eyes and something else. It almost seemed like guilt, but try as he may, he never could understand why.

There was one time, though, three years prior,

_"Katrina?"_

_She turned to him with a slightly startled expression._

_"Y-yes?"_

_He gave an apologetic smile. "I heard about your father's passing and I just wanted to offer my condolences."_

_With a small sigh, she shook her head. "Thank you. He passed quickly."_

_"His heart?"_

_"Yes," she whispered softly, her eyes on her hands._

_Nodding, he shifted nervously. "I'm very sorry. I know he was the last of your family."_

_There was something in the way she glanced up and stared at him for a moment, but then it passed just as quickly as it had appeared._

_"I have other family."_

_With a nod, he quickly spoke. "Of course... Abraham." He paused for a moment. "How is he?"_

_"He's Abraham."_

_The way she said it left little to his imagination. It would seem she had no more love for her husband now than when he last spoke to her._

_As her green eyes bore into his, he felt himself beginning to get lost in them._

_He knew if he allowed this conversation to linger too much longer, he would lose himself in her completely._

_"Yes, well," he began, nervously shifting his feet. "It was lovely to see you."_

_As he turned to leave, he was halted by her hand grasping his._

_"Ichabod..." She paused. "There's-There's something I need to tell you."_

_Frowning at her nervous expression, he turned fully toward her. "Katrina, what is it?"_

_"I-"_

_"Katrina, are you coming?" Alfred's voice broke through._

_At the Reverend's voice, her hand fell from him immediately, almost as if she'd been burned._

_"Yes," she said with a nod before moving toward the Reverend._

_"Katrina...?"_

_She took a moment before she glanced back to him, her face a cloud of swirling emotion._

_With a small smile, she caught his eyes. "It was really good to see you again, Ichabod."_

_Then, she was gone._

He'd went over that conversation at least a hundred times. Her gaze. Her mannerisms. Everything.

It had truly seemed as if she had something of import to share with him, but then she'd departed so quickly.

That had been the one and only time they spoken in the past five years.

She still protected him from a distance, though.

He found he was rarely without a witch or warlock near. Alfred was usually the one who accompanied him under the guise of ministering to the soldiers, which he did quite well. He couldn't begin to repay the man for all the protection he'd offered him through the years.

"Have you ever been here before?" Thomas asked.

"Yes, I suppose if I had to name a place home, this would be it."

No matter their circumstances, she would always be his home.

As they entered the town, he and Thomas stumbled into the square. It didn't take long for some men to gather them up and carry them to the infirmary.

"Ichabod." It was Alfred. "What happened?"

"We were ambushed across the river."

He winced as they adjusted him onto a cot.

The Reverend nodded his understanding as he stepped back and they began to peel his soaked clothes from his body. Even half frozen, he could hear Thomas in the next bed flirting, rather poorly, with one of the nurses.

"You've been shot!" Alfred exclaimed as he placed a hand next to the hole in his side.

"It's nothing, Reverend."

He really didn't feel much as the cold had numbed him some time ago.

"Hardly," Alfred muttered.

The nurse tending him spoke. "If you'd delayed much longer you'd have bled out."

They fussed over him for what felt like hours when, suddenly, the door to the infirmary flew open.

Lifting his head to see who was in such a hurry, he felt his heart stop.

He looked to Alfred.

"You sent for her, didn't you?"

"Yes, he did," she answered, out of breath.

When she reached his side, she lifted the towel covering his wound before looking to the nurse beside her and biting out, "Move."

"But-"

"I said to move," she interrupted in a dangerous tone. "Go and find someone else to butcher. You're finished here."

The nurse looked back and forth between them. "He's my patient. You don't even work here."

The nurse obviously wasn't noticing Katrina's nearly murderous expression.

It was Alfred who thankfully broke the tension. "Lydia, I believe Susan needs some help with Ichabod's young companion."

Glancing past the two women, he saw Thomas sitting up, seemingly fine.

With a huff, Lydia turned and headed to assist.

The young woman had barely moved before Katrina was already tending his wound, her eyes darting all about him.

"Why are you wet?

Rolling his eyes, he sighed, "I went for a swim."

After Alfred quickly explained the series of events to her, she directed her glare at him.

"You jumped in the river!?"

He honestly hadn't thought her voice could hit that high of a pitch.

"That's what I said!" exclaimed Thomas from across the room.

Throwing an irritated look at Thomas, he sighed. "It was our only option for survival."

"You shouldn't have been alone without protection in the first place." She threw her glare to Alfred. "You were supposed to be watching him."

Alfred held up a hand. "I was called back to town for a funeral. I was going to return to the encampment at first light."

Her eyes narrowed. "I ordered you to keep him in your sight at all times. I trusted you with his protection, Alfred. Obviously, it was a misplaced trust."

"It's fine, Katrina," he whispered. "It's not his fault."

"It's not fine!" she bit out. "You're too important."

Now, his anger was surfacing. He was tired of being coddled. "I'm no more important than any other man fighting this war."

She clenched her jaw and yanked his bandage off causing pain to shoot through him. It hurt worse than the actual bullet.

"Katrina!"

Thomas chuckled. "What's wrong, Crane? Can't handle a beautiful woman roughing you up?"

Rolling his eyes for what he swore was the hundredth time that day, he gritted out, "Thomas, if you don't shut up, I'm going to shoot you myself!"

"Fiinne."

When he returned his gaze to her, he saw her share a look with Alfred before the man nodded and turned to the other nurse.

"Ms.? Might we have some privacy? Mr. Crane would like to make a confession." At the young girls alarmed look, he elaborated, "Just in case. I'm sure there's no danger, but he'd like to be safe all the same."

Thomas was at his side before Alfred finished his sentence.

"Are you dying, Crane? Cause if you are, I have a couple confessions to make myself. That flask of rum that you lost, well, I might have stolen it. I didn't drink it," he quickly explained, his eyes wide. "As I've never drank, still your fault. I just didn't think it was fair that you could and I couldn't. So, I poured it out. And that-"

"I'm not dying, Thomas," he groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

"You're not?"

"No," he said with a glance at his young friend. "I swear as soon as I get out of here, I'll buy you a drink and find you a pretty girl so that you'll quit talking about not having ever been with one, but only if you shut up and get out."

Thomas seemed slightly speechless. "Of course. Yeah, I'll do that."

He started to walk away, but, of course, his moment of speechlessness ended as he moved back to stand next to Katrina. "He's lying, you know. Must be the blood loss. I've been with a girl and-"

"Thomas!"

"I'm going. I'm going," he said quickly.

As the room finally cleared of everyone but Alfred and Katrina, he rested his head back against the cot and watched as she waved a hand over his wound.

"This is going to hurt."

He raised an eyebrow. "Try not to enjoy it too much."

At her glare, he felt her magic's warmth begin to fill him. His eyes slammed shut as the bullet tore from his body and dropped into her hand. As the blinding pain coursed through him, he cursed as his body went rigid, his fists clenching the sides of the cot beneath him.

"Remember not to heal him completely," Alfred warned.

"I know, Alfred," she said in an annoyed tone. "This isn't the first time I've done this."

"It was just a reminder. I know how you are when it comes to hi-"

The man's words cut off, but as his eyes were clenched shut, he could only imagine the look she must have thrown him. She always been very talented at that.

"Katrina..." he whispered, cracking his eyes open slightly.

When her gaze fell to his, it softened as she laid a hand on his cheek. "Just breathe. It's alright."

The warmth of her magic spread through him once more, furling and unfurling within him.

After a moment, his pain lessened considerably, finally allowing him to release the breath he'd been holding.

"That's as much as I can heal it for now. We can't have the nurses running around town shouting about your miraculous recovery."

He nodded his understanding.

"Well, I believe I'll go recover your young friend."

Glancing at Alfred, he raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you could cast some sort of spell to seal his mouth? I'd be very grateful."

With a chuckle, Alfred departed.

Turning his gaze back to her, he found her fingering a scar to his shoulder.

"What happened?"

Her voice was the softest it'd been since she arrived.

"Knife," he answered quietly.

Her gaze made its way to his and she shook her head. "You're lying."

Sighing, he dropped his eyes from hers to the scar. "It was a demon. Some sort of clawed...thing. Alfred destroyed it."

"Not soon enough."

His eyes found hers again as his hand slid over hers, threading their fingers together.

"Katrina, I'm fine. I promise. You know I'd never keep something serious from you."

An emotion he couldn't place passed over her face before she leaned forward and placed a kiss to the scar, sending sensations over him he'd not felt in some time.

After a moment of her gentle caress, she lifted her head to catch his eyes. "I can heal it."

Bringing a hand up to run through her red hair, he whispered, "It's alright. A soldiers' supposed to have a few scars."

With a shake of her head, she placed a kiss to the hand that was holding hers. "I don't like it when you're hurt. It makes me go slightly mad."

He smiled. "I noticed."

The feel of her warm breath as it brushed against his face drew his eyes and the urge to feel her soft lips on his began to overtake him.

The sudden clearing of a throat, however, caused her to bolt upright and spin to find Alfred and Thomas standing in the door way.

"Oh, I get it now," Thomas said in a knowing voice. "You just wanted some privacy. Why didn't you just say so, Crane?"

"Thomas-"

He pointed at the door. "I mean, I can just go back out into the freezing night air if you'd like."

"Thomas-"

"I suppose a pretty girl is worth having your friend freeze to death over."

Picking up a nearby pillow, he threw it at Thomas, but the boy simply caught it with a falsely surprised look.

"What'd I say?"

Alfred stepped forward, taking the pillow from Thomas and setting it back down. "Why don't the two of you get some rest? Katrina?"

"Someone should stay with them," she said quickly.

Alfred looked between the two of them, his eyes admonishing him for a moment before settling on her. "I believe the nurses can do that. It is _their_ job after all."

Seemingly defeated, she turned to him. "I hope you feel better."

With a nod, he whispered, "Thank you."

Her eyes remained fixed on him, darting about his face. "Ichabod, I need to talk to you before you return to camp."

"Is everything alright?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but Alfred's voice interrupted her.

"Katrina?"

Eyes falling closed, she sighed before turning to the door.

Upon reaching it, she glanced back with a last small smile before departing with Alfred.

"So, is that your girl?"

Rolling his eyes, he fell back against the cot and brought his pillow over his head, sure this visit to Sleepy Hollow would be the death of him.


	19. Chapter 19

The next day, he felt recovered enough to take a walk through town and Thomas, it seemed, felt it his duty to accompany him in case he 'fainted'.

"I'm not going to faint, Thomas, nor will I pass out," he muttered, annoyed.

"Don't worry, Crane," Thomas said, with a pat to his shoulder. "I've got your back."

The boy was out to drive him mad. He was sure of it. He'd been up and rambling since the crack of dawn with no signs of ceasing any time in the near future.

He'd honestly wanted some time to himself to work out his emotions. Since seeing her the night before, he hadn't been able to get her image out of his head, not that it ever really went away, but it seemed to be there in full force as he attempted to gain some rest.

The nightmares had never ceased in his years away from her, but the night before had been particularly vivid in its torment.

Usually, he simply recalled childhood memories in his dreams, all their mischievous activities they'd gotten themselves tangled up in, well, that she'd gotten him tangled up in.

The nightmare the previous night had been nothing of the sort, however.

He'd been with her, just the two of them. They were happy in their own small world of bliss, but then Alfred had appeared, echoing the warning from her wedding day. The next thing he knew, Katrina was torn from him, her coven having taken her away while he was thrust into his role as the Witness without his protector there to guide him. He'd awoken in a cold sweat as her calls for him had began to echo around him.

With a sigh, he brought a hand to his eyes attempting to stomp the nightmare from his mind and focus on the day before him.

As they ventured about the streets, he took it all in. The town had changed quite a bit in his absence. New businesses had arisen. More people had moved in. It would seem things had simply kept on moving forward after his departure.

Rounding a street, he came up short at the sight before him and attempted to backtrack, but found it was useless.

"Ichabod Crane." He cursed beneath his breath as he turned. "It's been a long time, old friend."

Conjuring his best smile, he nodded. "Abraham."

"What brings you to town?"

"He was shot," Thomas offered.

Casting a glare in Thomas' direction, the boy simply shrugged.

"Shot? Are you well?"

Abraham laid a hand to his shoulder as he looked him over, seemingly concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine," he answered reassuringly. "It was relatively minor."

Abraham smiled, a relieved expression coming to his face. "That's good news. I'm heading to a meeting, but you and your friend should join me for lunch at the house."

His eyebrows shot up slightly. "Oh, we couldn't-"

"That sounds great!" Thomas interrupted, quite excitedly.

"Wonderful," Abraham exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "I look forward to catching up."

As soon as Abraham was out of earshot, he grabbed Thomas by the arm, more than ready to strangle the boy. "Why did you agree to that?"

"Because I'm starving and haven't had a proper meal in months. That's why."

Sighing, he released him.

Lovely. A lunch with the von Brunt's, just what he needed to brighten his day.

* * *

Standing outside the Old von Brunt home, he found that he felt positively ill. For the past hour since bumping into Abraham, he'd felt his dread steadily growing in its intensity. The idea that he was about to enter their home, the one they shared together, was too much for him to bear. He didn't need any more nightmares to accompany his already restless sleep.

Nearly ready to turn to Thomas and tell him he knew plenty of other people they could eat a proper meal with, he heard his name.

"Ichabod, you're here. Wonderful."

Turning at Abraham's voice, he found him walking through the gate and felt his escape plan crumble before him.

"Katrina will be so pleased to learn you're back in town."

Frowning at the man, he asked, "She doesn't know we're here for lunch?"

"Oh, no, I haven't had time to tell her." Thomas made a small noise of dissatisfaction. "Don't worry young man, there'll be plenty of food. We have an excellent cook."

"Great!"

Thomas' relief was evident.

With a sigh, he followed Abraham into the house and removed his coat.

Despite his still present dread, he couldn't help but chuckle at Thomas's mouth, which was hanging slightly ajar at the lavish house.

About to remark on his expression, he was halted, however, as Katrina entered the room.

"Abraham? Who's with you-"

When her eyes caught sight of him, the book she was holding dropped to the floor.

"Katrina!" Abraham scolded.

He noticed her give a small flinch before a thin smile covered her face as she quickly recovered her lost book. "I'm sorry. I just... wasn't expecting company."

Thomas pointed a finger at her. "Hey, you're-"

He quickly slapped Thomas' hand down and stepped forward to take hers.

Placing a kiss upon it, he smiled. "It's wonderful to see you again, Katrina." Turning back to a confused Thomas, he explained, "This is my comrade, Thomas West. Thomas, this is Katrina von Brunt. Abraham's _wife_."

Praying the boy understood, he watched him frown, then raise his eyebrows as if he had finally unraveled a mystery. "Ohhh."

He rolled his eyes as Thomas nearly tripped over himself moving to bow before her.

"It's nice to meet you," Thomas said as he gave a small smirk.

Abraham stepped forward and patted Thomas on the back. "Well, I do believe this young man mentioned something about starvation." He glanced to Katrina. "See to it, Katrina."

She hesitantly nodded before quickly turning and pushing through a nearby door.

As they moved into the dining room, Thomas leaned close. "So, not really your girl, huh?"

Ignoring Thomas, he observed Katrina. He'd never seen her act like this. She looked as if she were about to have a nervous breakdown.

After she returned from the kitchen, she sat down across from him, knocking over a glass of water in the process.

When she jumped up, she knocked over her chair as well.

"Katrina, have you lost all sense?" Abraham bit out admonishingly. "What is the matter with you?"

"I'm sorry," she said quickly with a glance to Abraham. "I-I'll just go-I'll get something to clean this up."

She nearly tripped walking to the kitchen.

Abraham turned to them, perplexed. "I haven't the slightest idea what's wrong with her. She's usually more graceful than this. Though, I suppose I can't blame her. She wasn't exactly brought up to serve guests properly. It was almost a mercy to marry her. I'm afraid the years haven't improved her skill."

Clenching his teeth, he chose not to respond, fearing he might knock Abraham right out of his chair.

Katrina returned. "Lunch will be served momentarily."

"So," Abraham spoke. "Ichabod, how are things on the battlefront?"

"Progressing slowly, I'm afraid. Thomas and I were just passing through delivering some documents when we were attacked."

Thomas grunted. "It's all Crane's fault. He refused to pass through this town, so we bypassed it and took to the other side of the river where we met our lovely friends."

Eyes sliding closed for a minute, he opened them and caught her stare. It was a mixture somewhere between hurt and confusion.

"Why ever would you do that?" asked Abraham.

"I simply thought it would be easier. Venturing through town would have held us up." He slid his eyes to her again. "There are too many people to get caught up with here, too many distractions."

Her gaze fell to her hands hidden in her lap.

After that, they ate and continued with talk of the war and politics until the sound of the front door opening and closing met his ears followed immediately by Katrina jerking and once again knocking her glass over.

Abraham gave her a scathing glare, then turned to him with a broad smile, his demeanor changing completely in a matter of moments.

"Ah, I can't wait for you to meet them, Ichabod."

He was confused. "Meet who?"

In answer to his question, a young boy and girl ran into the room, bypassing Abraham completely and flying at Katrina.

The girl squealed, "Mama, look what we found!"

At the girl's words, he felt his breathing halt completely.

She had children, two of them.

As the children showed their new discovery to Katrina, Abraham stood. "Come here, children. I want to introduce you to an old friend of mine."

The boy wouldn't part from Katrina's side, but the girl bolted forward immediately.

Abraham gestured to the boy. "This is my son, William. He's unfortunately, extremely attached to his mother, a trait of his I'll soon rectify."

He said it with a small amount of disdain to which Katrina glanced up to him, her own disdain consuming her features.

Clearing his throat as a means of attempting to rid himself of his shock, he offered a smile to the boy who was peeking at him from beneath his long bangs. The moment their eyes met, the boy quickly turned into Katrina, hiding his face in her hair.

Abraham diverted his attention to the girl, but she'd already made her way around the table to his side.

Rising, he accepted the small girl's hand as she thrust it out to him.

"Nice to meet you, sir."

He chuckled at her enthusiasm and bowed to her. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well. I'm Ichabod Crane and what's your name?"

Smiling proudly, she pulled her hand back. "Cassie von Brunt."

The smile he'd forced to his face faded almost immediately, a memory of Katrina declaring Cassie to be there imaginary daughter's name flashing in his mind. This girl wasn't far from that little one's description. Bright red hair, pale skin. Even the blue eyes.

The ability to breathe left him completely.

"Crane, you alright there?"

Jumping at Thomas's voice, he came back to the present. "Yes. I'm- I'm fine."

As he took his seat, he found his gaze wandering to her pale face, finding her avoiding his eyes.

"You have beautiful children, Abraham," he whispered, doing his best to find his breath.

He kept his gaze on her as he said it, but she was keeping her attention firmly planted on her son.

"Thank you, Ichabod," Abraham said proudly.

"Are they twins?"

Thomas's question caught him off guard. He hadn't noticed how close in age they appeared, having been to overwhelmed by the fact that they existed at all.

"They are. Born just over four years ago."

"We were tiny," said Cassie as she picked at her mother's plate of food.

"Yes. Premature," Abraham continued with a withering glance at Cassie, who sat back immediately in her chair, ceasing her eating. "We were quite worried when Katrina went into labor two months early."

Katrina's eyes finally left her son to rest on Abraham, her gaze displaying discomfort in the extreme. "Abraham, I'm sure they don't care to hear this."

"Nonsense, Katrina. Everyone loves this story. It was a miracle."

"A miracle?" Thomas was clearly intrigued as he leaned forward in his seat.

"Yes," Abraham replied. "You see, it's quite normal for twins to come early, but William and Cassie were considerably early. I was so thrilled over learning I was to be a father and so quickly. Why, Katrina and I had only been married for a short seven months when they were born."

Thomas whistled at that, but all Ichabod did was stare, stare and think, as his mind darted in all sorts of directions.

The girl was the spitting image of Katrina, save the blue eyes which Ichabod had attributed to Abraham, but the boy was another story. While he had his mother's less prominent features, he possessed a full head of dark hair and piercing blue eyes. His skin wasn't as pale as his sisters and the longer he stared at him, the harder it became for him to breathe.

To make things worse, Katrina was still avoiding his eyes, which was making him furious.

Abraham's voice brought him out of his stupor. "Ichabod? Is everything alright? You're bleeding."

Not understanding, he followed Abraham's concerned gaze down to his hand and saw that he was clutching his dinner knife so tightly he had sliced his palm open. The blood was pouring profusely.

"I-"

He hadn't even noticed.

Abraham waved a hand. "Katrina, take Ichabod to the kitchen and help him."

She was already up and taking his arm before Abraham even finished his command.

When they reached the kitchen, he did his best to sort his thoughts as she poured some water into a basin and set about washing the blood away.

"It's a deep cut, but I can heal it enough that-"

Her voice brought him to the present.

Jerking his hand away, he pointed a finger at her. " _Don't_!"

She was finally looking at him and he saw the truth in every inch of her features.

"Ichabod, please, I need to heal you," she whispered, reaching for his hand.

"Do you think me a fool, Katrina?"

All the anger he had within him had risen to the surface.

Her body tensed as she shook her head. "No, of course not."

As he took a step toward her, she took one back.

"Tell me," he whispered darkly.

"Ichabod..."

He kept moving toward her and she kept stepping backward until she hit the counter.

Less than a foot from her, he placed his hands on each side of the cabinet, trapping her in his arms.

"Tell me what I should have heard from you five years ago."

Her eyes fell closed and he could see her tears beginning to seep out. "Ichabod, please-"

His hands slammed against the counter causing her to jump and open her eyes, the pain in his hand a distant memory.

"I have loved you all this time, remained faithful to you, a married woman. I've never even looked at another. How could you keep this from me? Me, Katrina!?"

She shook her head. "I wanted to tell you. I tried-"

"You tried? I don't recall that conversation, nor do I recall a mention that you even had children in the first place."

"If I had told you that you were going to be a father, you never would have left. You have a destiny -"

"Don't you dare," he whispered heatedly.

"Dare what?" she asked, seemingly finding her own temper. "Give you the same excuse you gave me on my wedding day? When you refused to run away with me? I begged you."

He pointed a finger at her. "That is not the same thing and you know it."

"You would have thrown your destiny away to be with me and our children. Don't deny it, Ichabod."

He couldn't refute her. He knew he would have done just that, but that should have been his choice to make.

"I trusted you," he whispered, dejectedly. "I thought you loved me."

Her expression fell as she reached to place a hand against his face. "Ichabod-"

"Hey, Crane. Are you- oh!"

At Thomas's entrance, he quickly stepped away from her and turned to Thomas, who was looking between them oddly.

With a frustrated sigh, he glanced back at her, her tears doing little to move him.

"This discussion isn't over, Katrina."

Not waiting for an answer, he grabbed a towel for his hand as he exited, gave Abraham an excuse, then practically stomped from the house. His mind was full and he just wanted to find a quiet place to sort through it.

Leaving Thomas back at the inn, he sought refuge in the only place he knew to go.

When he finally made it to his destination, he felt like he'd just run a mile as he collapsed under the familiar tree, allowing his gaze to wander out over the stones.

He could still see them so clearly. His son and daughter. They were more beautiful than anything he could have imagined.

Feeling his heart constrict at the thought that he had children, children who knew nothing of him, he brought his knees up, leaning his elbows to them so he could prop his head in his hands.

He simply could not wrap his mind around it. A son and a daughter. With Katrina.

It wasn't possible.

Neither was it possible that she could have kept this from him. The thought that she'd ever betray him in such a way was too much to bear.

As the cold began to numb his body, he finally released the sob that had been building within him.

She'd lied to him, betrayed him.

The thought that her love for him was not as true as his for her began to eat away at him, gnawing at and tormenting his very soul.

How he wished the cold would numb his heart and mind as it had already done to his body.


	20. Chapter 20

He knew not how long he'd been sitting there, lost in his thoughts. It was late now, the sun sinking below the tress surrounding the cemetery, leaving him colder than when he'd arrived.

His entire evening had been spent sitting in a cloud of confusion and rage. The longer he dwelled upon his situation, the greater his anger grew.

A branch snapping to his left brought him defensively to his feet.

When his gaze fell on her, he shook his head, his eyes narrowing. "I have nothing to say to you."

"But I have plenty to say to you," she snapped back.

"Katrina-"

"If you're going to judge me," she cut in. "At least have all the facts while you're doing it."

Anger consumed him. "I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you. I want _nothing_ to do with you. So, please, just this once, leave me alone, Katrina."

For a moment, he thought she might give in. She certainly looked defeated enough to flee to some unknown area to sob. Normally, that would have concerned him greatly, the idea of his beloved Katrina so distraught, but not this night. No. This night, she was the bearer of one of his worst nightmares. The one person in the world he'd always thought would be on his side had betrayed him.

"Please, just...just talk to me." She paused as she glanced down to her hands. "I'm not here to plead my case. I know I'm in the wrong. What I did was despicable and selfish, but I did do it, Ichabod. I'm sorry you found out the way that you did, but..." Her eyes were back on him. "We share two children and we need to discuss it before you once again leave."

It was the way she spoke of his leaving that let him into her innermost thoughts on the subject. It was quite obvious she was still bitter over his leaving her five years earlier.

"Don't do that," he whispered.

A frown came to her face. "Do what?"

" _Don't_!" he bit out. "I had every right to leave you. Would you honestly have expected me to stay as you lived out your life with him?" She moved to speak, but he held up a hand. "Is that something you, yourself, would have done had our situations been reversed?"

The darting of her eyes out over the graves showed her sudden discomfort. "You're right."

At her admission, he brought a hand to his eyes attempting to calm himself down.

"How did you know I'd be here?"

She released a heavy sigh. "Regardless of what you now think of me, Ichabod, I still know you."

With a huff, he slid back down the tree. "I don't know what I think anymore."

After a moment, the lower part of her dress and boots came into view.

"May I sit with you?" Knowing he couldn't avoid a conversation with her, he nodded, but refused to look at her as she sat next to him. "You're freezing out here."

"I'll survive," he mumbled, even as a shiver took control of his body.

She shifted closer to him, hesitantly laying her hand over his, her magic immediately spreading through his body, warming him to his core.

"I'd really appreciate it if you refrained from touching me."

He didn't say it in a rude or angry manner, just a defeated one. He was too tired to put any more effort into rebuking her.

As her hand slid from him, he closed his eyes, already missing her touch.

"I know you must think me a horrible person."

"No," he whispered. "I think you're someone who has a great deal of responsibility." Sighing, he turned to her to find her face bearing an untold story of grief and sorrow. "But that doesn't excuse-" He shook his head. "I've thought about it so many times, having children with you, that I almost feel as if this is another dream."

Her eyes fell to the ground. "When I-when I realized I was with child...I was so happy. All I wanted to do was find you, to share our miracle with you." Eyes slowly sliding back to his, she continued, "The knowledge that we created not one, but two babies, Ichabod. I thought I was imagining it."

He gave a small nod, the knowledge that she'd wanted him to know doing nothing for his still seething anger. "You tried to tell me after your father died, didn't you?"

"Yes," she answered quietly. "It was easier when I wasn't around you, but when you spoke to me...every desperate wish for you to know rushed to the surface."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugged dejectedly. "Because I'm a coward. Even if Alfred hadn't interrupted, I doubt I would have actually told you."

"And last night? Is that what you wanted to talk about."

Her eyes danced over his face. "Yes, I wanted to tell you."

"Would you have?"

Another shrug escaped her as her gaze fell to her hands once more. "I've always known you finding out was only a matter of time and when you showed up here last night, I knew..."

"You knew someone would mention it, so you were biting the bullet in an attempt to make yourself look better," he finished bitterly.

"Yes," she whispered. "That's exactly what I was doing."

Nodding, he leaned back against the tree, his emotions no more clear than before.

A thought occurred to him as he glanced at her.

"Do they have magic?"

She gazed at him a moment before answering. "Yes."

He had magical children. Somehow, that was more odd than the knowledge that he was a Witness to the foretold Apocalypse who was in love with a witch.

"My coven doesn't know you're their father," she offered. "I don't allow them out much and when I do, it's never where they can be discovered."

"Why the secrecy? Does your infidelity to your betrothed matter that much?"

She flinched at his quip.

"William and Cassie have the potential to be extremely powerful one day. I can sense that perhaps they'll be even more powerful than me."

"You think it's because I'm the Witness," he stated, after a moment of thought.

She nodded. "I believe so."

Swallowing down his disbelief at the fact that his two small children might become more powerful than he, he paused to consider her words. "What would they do to them? Your coven?"

"They'd kill them."

His eyes shot to hers, but found her gaze was on her hands. "Kill them?"

"Or at least attempt to."

"They're just children," he said incredulously.

"They won't be forever," came her final whisper.

He felt anger coiling deep inside of him. "Fear of the unknown."

"Alfred warned me that my feelings for you would lead to dire consequences if I gave in. I just never thought it could be in the form of something as precious as our children."

"Katrina-"

"It's why I made myself marry, Abraham," she cut in, twisting her fingers in what had to be a painful manner. "I thought it would temper my love to make you untouchable, but that one moment of weakness-I was so selfish."

For a moment, he paused. "Does Alfred know?"

"I'm not sure," she whispered. "I think he might suspect, but he's never said anything and he doesn't know that we-no one knows."

Catching her eyes, he couldn't help but lean his forehead against hers.

He had thought his life was done being complicated. "They're so beautiful."

"They are."

He simply had to address it. "You named her Cassie."

Pulling back slightly, she caught his eyes and brought her hand up to his face. "The first time I held her, the red hair took me slightly by surprise, but when she opened her eyes and I saw yours staring back at me, I thought I was dreaming."

He wished more than anything he had that memory. He would give anything for it.

Seemingly reading his thoughts, she shook her head. "I'm so sorry, my love. I wanted you there so badly. You _deserved_ to be there."

"What happens, now? Am I supposed to simply leave and pretend I'm not a father?" Sighing, he went on, "Though, I suppose I'm really not. Abraham's their father."

She pulled herself closer to him, her warmth filling him again. "They're his possessions just as I am. We're his pretty ornaments to dangle before people. He never even acknowledges them beyond that." She shook her head again. "It doesn't bother Cassie too much. She's so independent. William, though...he's so tenderhearted. The slightest thing will cause him to close up completely."

Confusion swept through him. "Abraham must love them. He wanted children."

She shook her head. "He wanted a particular kind of child. A son who was like him." Her gaze came back to his. "William isn't that child, not in any way, shape, or form." Her hand reached up to stroke his face. "He is so like you."

The fact that he knew nothing of the traits his son shared with him caused his heart to constrict in both anger and longing.

"I am so angry with you," he whispered. "I want to hate you so desperately."

Her hand stilled as her gaze fell uncertainly, a devastated frown creasing her features.

"You kept my children from me, Katrina. Our children. That's something that cannot ever be undone. I'll never know them the way I should." With a deep breath, he slid his hand beneath her chin. "But you are woven so deeply into my heart." Green eyes on his, he whispered, "I still love you, Katrina."

"You do?" she asked timidly.

"Always, my love."

Her smile reached her eyes for the first time all day.

"Swear to me that you'll never keep anything from me again."

She nodded, her hand resuming its stroking along his face. "I swear."

"I want to know them," he admitted quietly.

"I want that to," she whispered, her eyes dancing about his face. "You couldn't possibly fathom how much I want you with us, for the four of us to be a family."

"Is that ever going to be possible?"

Her gaze paused on his, an expression of sorrow filling her features. "I honestly don't know."

With a nod, he leaned his forehead to hers.

It was an odd thing how closely love and hate ran. Despite his blinding rage at being a father, yet, because of her choices, knowing nothing of the matter at all, he still longed for her touch, for her souls connection with his. He longed for it in a way that had his breathing shallow and his heart beating wildly beneath his chest at the simple thought of touching her.

Leaning forward, he left his mouth only a breath from hers, allowing her the final choice. From his few observations of her life now, it was clear she didn't get many choices any longer. They'd all been completely stripped from her.

At his pause, however, she wasted no time in her decision to close the distance between them.

Her mouth collided with him, her soft lips sliding over his, their passion igniting quickly as their hands soon joined in their reacquainting with the other's body.

It was a strange sensation to be so warm whilst lying in snow, the perfect contradiction.

As she hovered over him, her mouth trailing along his heating skin, he considered how much he'd missed her through their many years of separation.

Soft eyes. Playful smiles. Gentle, yet demanding touches. It was all he'd thought about, dreamed about.

Now, though, as she gazed down at him with a mixture of all three, he prayed he'd never know such separation from her again.


	21. Chapter 21

The following morning, he'd had to force himself from his bed. The entire night he'd tossed and turned with his dilemma, only topped by his still aching side from his wound. Anger and frustration had ruled him, resulting in a substantial loss of sleep. Hurt and betrayal had been present as well, but not nearly as prevalent as the other two.

His mood as he had started out the day had been less than pleasant, which Thomas must have felt as he'd been silent since they'd left the inn to begin making their long journey back to camp. He felt slightly guilty for his shortness with the boy, but it simply could not be helped, though, not after last night's ending.

_"Let me heal your cut."_

_"No," he said with a chuckle._

_She'd been pestering him for the past five minutes._

_"Ichabod-"_

_"You don't have to heal every little pin prick, Katrina."_

_Grabbing his hand, she turned it over to look at his palm, taking in the long slash running across it. "That's considerably more than a pinprick."_

_Stopping his pace, he turned to her. "Stop worrying over it."_

_With a sigh, she stepped closer to him. "I just-" Her words broke off._

_"You're trying to delay me," he offered with a small smile._

_Her eyes came up to meet his. "Is that so terrible of me? To want to spend a few more moments with you?"_

_Brushing a hand through her hair, he shook his head. "No, my love, it's not terrible at all."_

_She nodded before leaning into him and wrapping her arms about his middle._

_"I feel so weak, Ichabod," she whispered, her hands gripping his jacket._

_"Weak?" he asked with a slight frown. "Why do you feel weak?"_

_"Every time I see you, I have the overwhelming urge to touch you, to feel your love."_

_He pulled back from her, enough to catch her eyes. "And you think love makes you weak?"_

_She shook her head. "I think you make me weak. My ability to properly think of anything else when you're near completely leaves me. All I want is to be with you."_

_He frowned, unsure where this was heading._

_"What are you implying?"_

_Dropping her eyes just below his, she let out a shaky breath. "I can't concentrate on the bigger picture. Can you?"_

_"Katrina-"_

_"If you stay here," she hurried along. "I won't focus on my work and neither will you. We'll end up having an affair, which will lead us to being discovered."_

_"You can't be sure of that," he protested, desperate for a way to convince her._

_She released a shaky breath and gestured behind her. "Ichabod, we just made love out in plain view for anyone to stumble upon us. We don't think when we're together. What if we created another child? We took no precaution. And I can be sure that if we are discovered, my coven will root out William's and Cassie's true parentage. They will destroy them, Ichabod." She shook her head. "If they see us together, they'll know."_

_His breathing was increasing in its pace as she spoke. "You're telling me to leave. You're actually telling me to leave, now, after all that's happened."_

_"No," she whispered, her tears beginning to make their presence known. "I am begging you to leave."_

_"I have children, Katrina, children I have a right to know. You can't do this."_

_"I'm so sorry, but...you're too important. Both of our missions will be jeopardized if you remain here. You must know that."_

_"And that's it, then?" he asked heatedly. "I'm to know nothing of them because of the destiny you chose for me?"_

_Her hands tightened on his coat again. "I didn't choose this. I thought you understood how invaluable you are to the cause."_

_"The cause? Is the cause the only thing I'm to ever have?" He reached up to cup her face. "My love, please, it doesn't have to be this way."_

_"Don't do this," she whispered. "You're the one who was rational on my wedding day when I was ready to throw everything way. Our reasons for being apart have not changed."_

_Abruptly pulling from her, he turned and paced a few feet away from her. Taking a deep breath, he ran his hands down his face as he thought about the ruin his life was in. His heart was heavy with sorrow as he looked back to her. She was standing there, looking completely broken and, for the first time, he found himself hating her. If he'd never met her, he'd still be with his family. Perhaps even have a family of his own. A wife he could be with any time he chose. In public. Children to teach and love. He wouldn't be out in the middle of nowhere. Swimming across freezing rivers. Being constantly attacked by demons and men alike. His heart wouldn't be broken, leaving him a shell of a man._

_"Ichabod?"_

_Her voice focused him back on her. Her uncertainty was visible, as was the internal torment she was experiencing._

_He didn't want to see that, though, not when his own heart was shattering. He needed her to be the enemy to make his next words true._

_"I'll be gone at first light."_

_Without another word, he turned and began to make his way back to the inn, leaving Katrina and every ounce of love he had behind him._

When they entered the trees surrounding Sleepy Hollow, they didn't get far in before they came across two hooded figures.

Thomas quickly reached for his pistol, but he stilled his hand, knowing exactly who was waiting for them.

Upon reaching the hooded figures, Alfred and Katrina removed their hoods.

The Reverend gave a pleasant smile. "Ichabod, I'll shall be accompanying you and young Thomas, here, back to your camp. I thought it would be safer for me to travel with two soldiers." He looked around in almost fearful way. "There's much danger about."

He knew the man was putting on a show for Thomas. He could take out the both of them without blinking an eye.

"What about her?"

Thomas raised a valid question to which Katrina bristled slightly. "I was keeping the Reverend company until your arrival."

Thomas regarded her a moment, looking between she and him. "No, you weren't." He stepped between them, almost blocking his view of Katrina entirely. "Shouldn't you be with your husband and children?"

He was surprised at the amount of venom in Thomas's voice. The boy was clearly trying to protect him. While touched at the sentiment, it was unnecessary, prompting him to clear his throat.

"He's right. You should be with your family."

Hurt flashed across her face, but was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

She'd never feel the hurt he did, not in all her life would she feel what he felt.

Looking to the sky, he avoided her gaze. "We're losing daylight. We need to be moving."

Thomas and Alfred nodded and began making their way deeper into the woods, but Katrina placed her hand on his arm, preventing him from following.

"You can catch up with them," she said lowly. "I need to speak with you."

"Katr-"

"Hey," Thomas cut in. "I don't appreciate what you're doing to my friend."

Katrina fixed the boy with a hard look and, before the two started arguing, he spoke in a low voice, chancing a glance at Alfred who was further up the road waiting for them.

"It's alright, Thomas." He nodded toward the Reverend. "Go with Alfred."

The boy, however, stood his ground. "It's not alright. She's using you."

Sighing, he placed his hand on Thomas' shoulder. "Katrina is simply a dear friend, Thomas."

"I saw you."

Frowning, he assumed the boy meant yesterday in the kitchen. "She was tending my wound, that's hardly reason to-"

"No," Thomas cut in heatedly. "Last night. I followed you to the graveyard because I was concerned. I stood off at a distance." His gaze flashed to Katrina, a deep anger in his brown eyes. "I saw the two of you."

The feeling of his blood draining from his face filled him. "Thomas-"

"You told me that I should wait. That I should wait to be with a girl that I made my wife. You said I should wait for love and yet you're carrying on with a married woman." Thomas shook his head. "You're a hypocrite, Ichabod."

Without another word, Thomas tuned on his heel and began moving further into the woods to join Alfred.

"I'm so sorry, Ichabod," she whispered. "This is what I was afraid would happen. Do you think he'll tell anyone?"

He looked back to her, his anger surfacing. "What do you want?"

She took a step back from him. "You left abruptly last night and... I wanted to make sure you were alright." A frown creased her features. "We might not see each other again for a long time and I-"

"Ok?" he asked incredulously. "Do you honestly think I'll ever be ok, Katrina? You've destroyed me."

Her face crumbled and he knew he should stop, but he was tired of worrying over everyone else's feelings but his own.

"You have taken everything that I had willingly given you; my heart, my body, my future. You selfishly ripped me apart and now you expect me to what, Katrina? Go on as if nothing has happened?"

She shook her head, reaching out toward him. "My love, please-"

"Don't!" he bit out, pointing a finger at her. "I never should have lain with you. It was a mistake that I'll never be able to take back."

Her breathing visibly picked up. "You're right, we shouldn't have done that last night, but-"

"Not last night." Her frown appeared again, so he decided to alleviate her confusion with no room for misinterpretation. "Ever. I never should have lain with you. _Ever_."

For a moment, she remained completely still. To him, it seemed as if she might not even be breathing.

"Please, don't say that," she finally whispered. "I know it's not fair and I have no right to ask this of you, but I'm doing it for my children. _Our_ children, Ichabod."

He stared at her a moment longer before shaking his head and turning to walk away, but then his anger got the better of him, prompting him to turn back to her.

"Do _your_ children a favor, Katrina. Tell them the truth before they discover it themselves, or else they'll grow to hate you just as intensely as I now do."

Her breath hitched and, for a moment, he felt he might have went too far, but before he allowed the thought to lead him to speaking again, he pushed the feeling down.

"I am finished with you. I don't want to ever see you again. Do you understand?"

"Please, don't do this."

He leaned close, grabbing her arm. "You ruined my life. I gave up my family, my home, at your word. I followed you into this war because I trusted you. I _trusted_ you, Katrina, and all you've done since then is torment me." He paused, doing his best not to break her arm with the force with which he was holding her. "I want nothing more to do with you, nor another moment spent in your presence to allow you to break me any further. Do you understand?"

Her eyes darted over his face as she nodded. "Yes, I won't-I won't hurt you anymore."

At her broken whisper, he released her.

"Have a lovely life, Mrs. von Brunt."

Turning his back to her, he began walking to catch up with Alfred and Thomas, who were still waiting up the road.

With a deep breath, he prayed with everything within him that he'd just put Sleepy Hollow behind him forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, upon re-reading this, it seems like some sort of mini-soap opera. Hope it was still enjoyable, despite its depressing nature :)


	22. Chapter 22

_1779(4 months later)_

"So, do you think we'll get an actual hot meal anytime in the near future?"

Chucking at his young friend's grumbling, he looked down at their small fire with a slight shake of his head. "Doubtful."

Thomas sighed, tossing the stick he'd been fiddling with into the flames. "I was afraid you'd say that."

He and Thomas had just returned from a mission of great importance: listening to Benjamin Franklin ramble on about how wonderful he is.

The man had about driven them both crazy in their two month's stay with him. He'd needed help with various tasks of some import and General Washington had insisted he be the one to carry them out to his great chagrin.

At present, they were encamped in the middle of the woods and the cold was nearly about to freeze him solid. The worst part of it all was that they were encamped a few miles outside of Sleepy Hollow. To say he was on edge at his proximity to the town would be quite the understatement as he'd purposed to himself he'd never enter that dreadful place again.

"Captain Crane?"

Looking up to the soldier addressing him, he stood with a nod. "Yes?"

"You're wanted in the General's tent."

"Again?" he asked confusedly. He'd just returned not an hour ago, his mission already being reported to the General.

The man gave a nod in the affirmative. "Yes, sir. He said it's a matter of some urgency."

Nodding to the man, he tossed his bread to Thomas. "Enjoy."

"Oh, thanks," Thomas said with a false happiness. "More stale bread. Just what I always wanted."

Chuckling, he made his way in the direction of the General's tent, contemplating what on earth could have happened in the past hour to require his presence again so soon.

Upon stepping between the flaps, he frowned at finding more than just the General present.

"Alfred."

The man turned to him and extended his hand. "Ichabod, wonderful to see you again, though I wish it were under better circumstances."

Accepting Alfred's hand, he glanced between him and the General, taking note of their serious expressions.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his gaze settling on Alfred. "Has something happened?"

"Hessians have been spotted nearby."

Nearly jumping out of his skin, he spun to find Katrina in the corner of the tent. He hadn't even noticed her as the cloak she had pulled around her was blending in with the tent's canvas. Her red hair was pulled up and her face bore an expression of complete formality.

As he stared at her, trying to gather his thoughts and formulate a response, he was saved when Alfred spoke again.

"You're not safe."

"I'm not?" he asked with a frown.

Katrina stepped closer to the men, her eyes dancing over the table's many maps. "If they discover that the Witness is encamped here, they will be relentless in their goal to kill you."

Realization upon where this was headed struck him and he was having none of it. "I'm not leaving."

"Ichabod," she began in an authoritative voice, her gaze coming to him with little to no emotion. "You have no choice. You're too important."

Infuriated at her attempt at ordering him about, he lost his patience and turned to face her fully. "I am no more important than any other man out there!"

She threw a hand toward the opening of the tent. "Every single man out there can be murdered tomorrow and it would not matter. Losing their lives will not affect the entire world's future, but your death would. It would condemn us all to darkness. Is that what you want?"

He was livid. How dare she suggest such a thing. "Of course, not! But I'm not going to run and hide in a cave while they suffer."

Her jaw clenched. "You will do as you are told."

Her voice was low with a dangerous edge to it and it filled him with absolute rage as he began to take a step toward her, but was stopped, however, as Alfred stepped between them.

"Now, now," Alfred began slowly. "Let us all calm down."

General Washington spoke, "Captain Crane."

He still had his eyes fixed on hers as they were currently in a battle of wills that he refused to let her win. The clear clench of her jaw signified her sense of superiority and he despised it, despised her constant need to control him. He wanted to strangle her.

"Captain Crane, you need to breathe."

Realizing that he had, in fact, been so angry that he wasn't breathing, he pushed Alfred's hand away and turned from her, sucking in some much needed air.

"I'm not leaving," he said with as much finality as he could muster.

The General stepped around the table, his hands behind his back. "We'll be encamped here for another day before we move south. You will leave with Alfred and Katrina."

Ready to protest, he held up a hand. "General-"

"That's an order, Crane."

Completely frustrated, he looked between all of them, gritting his teeth. "So that's it, then? You've all come together and decided my future for me? I have no say in my own life?"

Alfred spoke, "It's for the best. You being here isn't just a danger to yourself, but to every soul here. You'll be safe in Sleepy Hollow."

His eyes jumped up to Alfred's, then darted to Katrina's, who were planted firmly on his boots. He'd not considered where they would be taking him. "No," he whispered. "I'm not returning there."

Alfred glanced between them confused. "It's the safest place for you. I thought you would be happy to return there."

"I said, no," he bit out, losing the last ounce of control he possessed. "You can take me somewhere else, anywhere else. One of the members of the coven not in Sleepy Hollow can take me in."

Katrina moved to the other side of the table and crossed her arms. "Sleepy Hollow is where you are going. It has protections there."

He was shaking his head when Alfred continued, "Even if it didn't, the other members aren't strong enough to protect you. Katrina is the most powerful of us as well as our leader. You need to be near her."

"I don't want to be near her!"

Alfred's face showed shock at his outburst while Katrina barely even moved, her mask of formality once more firmly in place.

With a deep breath, he brought a hand to drag down his face in an attempt to get himself under control.

"General? Alfred?" They both turned to her, but he refused. "I would appreciate a moment alone with Captain Crane."

Feeling slightly faint, he leaned against the table as both men exited the tent, leaving him completely alone with her.

He still refused to look at her as she moved to stand beside him.

"I do not wish to force you to return," she began slowly. "I know you won't be happy there and that's the last thing I want, but you must be protected, Ichabod."

"Then, let someone else do it," he bit out coldly, his fingers digging into the table, attempting to pour all his emotions into it.

"If someone else were capable, please believe that I would."

She stepped closer to him, causing him to tense with a shake of his head.

"Don't touch me, Katrina. Please, just..."

He heard her take in a deep breath before she spoke, "Look at me."

"Why?"

"Because I need you to see me," came her whispered reply.

Confused at the tone of her voice, he finally glanced at her and felt his breath leave him.

"No," he whispered, praying he wasn't seeing what he thought he was.

She'd removed her cloak and stood before him in a simple dress, one that revealed her slightly swollen belly.

After a moment, she stepped close to him once more and this time he didn't move away, his shock keeping him firmly in place. Her eyes danced over him for a moment as she reached down, gently grabbing his hand and placing it against her belly.

"Is it-?"

He couldn't finish his question. His brain had absolutely halted all processing.

Hesitantly, she brought the hand not covering his up to his face and whispered, "Yes, we're having another baby."

He was completely entranced with it. The thought that just beneath his hands was his child. A piece of him. Inside Katrina.

"Are you sure? I mean, how do you know?"

Her hand on his face slid to his neck. "I know, Ichabod. I would never give him a child. I'm very careful. Besides, he and I hardly ever-"

His eyes met hers when she stopped to find them filled with untold misery. "Katrina?"

"When I found out, I-He thinks the child is his."

With a sigh, he allowed his eyes to fall closed, his guilt taking hold of him. "He doesn't deserve this, Katrina. He's arrogant and prideful, but he's not a bad man."

"You have no idea what kind of man he is," she bit out quickly. "You never did. I told you that I would never give that monster a child."

At her words, his eyes popped open. "Monster?"

Her gaze fell as she shook her head. "It's nothing."

"Katrina-"

"Would you prefer that this child was his?" she cut in with a frown.

His thoughts automatically ventured to the thought of the child beneath his hands being the product of Abraham and Katrina, and the act they would've had to have committed to create it. The result of such a thought made him positively ill.

"No," he whispered, pulling himself from her and backing away. "But this doesn't change anything." He gestured to her belly. "That baby will just become another thing I can't have, another thing you won't allow me to have. I'll know it no more than I know my other children."

She stepped toward him again, her eyes seemingly pleading. "You can get to know them. Abraham is constantly away on business. He's never home." She shrugged. "He prefers not being with us as we're not of great import to him. If you want to spend time with them, you can." With a heavy sigh, she whispered, "I want you to know them, Ichabod. You must know I want that more than anything."

He wanted to scream at her.

"Why are you doing this to me? Every time I think I can put you behind me, you appear. You're the one who said it was too dangerous for us to be near each other. You told me to leave, Katrina, and yet here you are telling me to come back." He shook his head, his mind and body feeling drained. "I don't want to feel this way anymore. I want to be finished with it. I cannot bear to go through this again."

Her eyes fell to her hands that were held to her belly, the belly holding their child, his child.

"I swear, I won't... bother you. You can spend time with William and Cassie and I won't interfere." She caught his eyes again, her orbs of green boring into his. "I'll keep my distance."

Feeling defeat begin to overcome him, he sighed, "It'll never work. We've proven that time and again."

With a nod, she whispered, "I have cemented it in my heart to never hurt you again. Please believe that I will do everything within my power to keep that promise."

Defeated, he brought a hand up to wipe over his face. "Alright," he whispered, before adding, "I do have one condition, though."


	23. Chapter 23

"So, why are we returning to this town, again?"

Thomas, his one condition, seemed more than slightly annoyed at his present circumstance, which he was making very obvious in the way he kept glaring back at Katrina.

"It's a mission," he replied, keeping as close to the truth as possible. "A secret one that I can't explain. You only need know that the General has ordered us to remain in Sleepy Hollow for a time."

Thomas glanced back at Alfred and Katrina again, who were following them. "And them?"

He sighed, tired with Thomas' persistent questions. "Katrina is a nurse. She was visiting camp to tend the wounded and Alfred escorted her."

Thomas gave him a doubtful look.

"We should rest."

At Alfred's words, he turned to glance at the Reverend, who gave a sideways glance to Katrina. With a nod, he set his bag down while Thomas looked at each of them, confused.

"We've only travelled two miles. Town's about another mile up the road."

"Katrina needs to rest," responded Alfred as he also dropped his bag to the ground.

"Alfred, I'm fine," Katrina protested with a roll of her eyes. "I don't need coddling."

Alfred ignored her and signaled for her to sit.

"She said she was fine. We should keep going."

He released a heavy breath, realizing Thomas wasn't going to let it drop. "She's with child, Thomas."

The boy's eyes shot open in surprise, suddenly becoming fixated on Katrina's belly as she removed her cloak.

Alfred gestured to the nearby stream as silence fell between the group. "I'll go and fetch us some fresh water."

As the man headed off, Ichabod moved to help Katrina sit on a fallen log.

"I'm really fine," she said, accepting his hand. "There's no need for this."

"Katrina, please humor me." He caught her eyes. "Just this once."

She maintained his stare for a moment before whispering, "Alright." Eyebrow raising, she added, "Just this once."

A playful smile eased into his face before he could stop it, but as soon as he realized what he was doing, he quickly stepped away from her.

Gaze leaving his, she smiled at Thomas, who was still staring at her oddly. "Have you never seen a woman with child before, Thomas?"

"Yes," he replied quickly. "Just never with my friend's child."

His eyes shot to Thomas, then to Alfred, who was still making his way to the stream.

"Don't be ridiculous, Thomas," he forced out with a chuckle as he gave Katrina a quick glance to find her more than a little shocked.

The boy slumped down to the ground and began fiddling with the grass, but never taking his eyes from Katrina.

"Does your husband know?"

His skin prickled as he gave a low warning, "Thomas, leave her be. I mean it."

The boys eyes moved to meet his accusingly. "Why do you defend her? She's married and yet having your child. She's nothing more than a whore."

Everything went red and then he suddenly had the boy jerked up to his feet and slammed into a tree before he could blink. "Don't you ever call her that again. Do you understand?"

Thomas's eyes were wide as he nodded almost mechanically.

"Speak!" he bit out. "Do you understand?"

Her hand came to rest on his arm with a gentle squeeze. "Ichabod, let him go."

Unceremoniously dropping the boy, he backed away, bringing a hand to his head as he attempted to find his calm.

"Thomas? Are you alright?" Katrina asked, holding out her hand to him.

The boy stared at her offered hand for a moment before accepting. "I'm fine."

"Apologize to her," he whispered, his body shaking.

"Ichabod, he doesn't have to-"

"Now!"

Thomas looked to Katrina and shifted his feet. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Thomas," she whispered with a small smile.

"It is not alright for him to call you that!"

His emotions were raging, the feeling of loss of control taking him over.

She turned to him, her expression sorrowful. "And what else is he supposed to think? I'm married and yet carrying your child. I look like a whore, Ichabod. It's what anyone would think. No one else knows of our entwined past, of our love. He doesn't know any better."

Not wanting to admit that she was right, but knowing he had no refute, he leaned against a tree and slid down it, his glare refusing to lessen as he roughly shoved his bag away from him.

After Thomas had discovered he and Katrina's relationship, they'd avoided speaking of it again. For days following their confrontation in the woods, Thomas refused to speak with him at all other than out of necessity. Upon most occasions, he would have welcomed the silence, but eventually he'd had to sit the boy down and explain that he'd made a mistake with Katrina that night. Not wanting to risk the possibility of William and Cassie's true parentage getting out, he'd left it as if he and Katrina had had a single night of passion. He had consoled himself by telling himself that he didn't lie to the boy, he just didn't over share. After that conversation, he'd apologized to Thomas for failing him in his example and begged he be given a second chance. The boy had carried on for a while like he might not forgive him, but, eventually, they'd thankfully put the entire situation behind them and resumed their previous camaraderie, for which his was both grateful and ungrateful for as Thomas had almost immediately gone on a tangent he could have cared less about hearing.

That is, they'd put it behind them until now.

"Is everything alright?"

Glancing up to find Alfred returning, he allowed Katrina to answer as he was still fuming.

"Everything's fine, Alfred, but I think we should begin moving again." She stepped in front of him and held out her hand. "Ichabod?"

Her eyes bore a silent pleading to which he couldn't help but give into as he accepted her offered hand.

As they resumed their journey, Thomas fell in to step beside him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't know she loved you. I just thought..."

"It's alright, Thomas. You didn't know."

He noticed Thomas glance behind them to Alfred and Katrina. "Are you excited?"

Giving the boy a confused look, he asked. "About what?"

Thomas smiled. "About being a father."

Following Thomas's gaze to Katrina's belly, he felt his own smile appear on his face as her eyes caught his. "There's nothing more beautiful than that knowledge."

* * *

As he held the front gate of the von Brunt home open for Katrina and Thomas, a shout from the porch caught his attention.

"Mama!"

William came bounding down the path before bolting into Katrina's arms with what Ichabod assumed was all the force his little body could muster. He couldn't help the smile that crept over his face at the sight of his son.

"My little William," Katrina whispered as she held the boy close. "What are you doing out here all alone?"

"I missed you," he whispered almost too quietly to hear. "Don't leave me again."

Katrina pulled back from him and pushed his dark hair back out of his eyes with a slight frown. "Are you ok, sweetheart? You look as though you've been crying."

The boy wiped at his face. "Father's mad at me."

Ichabod observed Katrina's eyes begin to dart over their son in concern as the door to the house opened rather suddenly.

"William!" came an angry shout, one very similar to the ones he'd heard as a boy himself.

He noticed William flinch before he glanced up to the house to see Abraham descending the steps and pause at the sight of them, his face going from rage to pleasant in a flash. "Ah, Ichabod. What is this? Another visit so soon?"

It always surprised him how quickly Abraham's mood could shift. It was often like another person had taken his place.

Katrina stood while William buried his face in her skirts, holding onto her quite tightly. "I was on my way home from visiting Mrs. Taylor and I bumped into Ichabod and Thomas. General Washington has requested that Ichabod remain in Sleepy Hollow for a time. He and Thomas were kind enough to escort me home."

He couldn't help but frown at her blatant lie. She did that so easily, flawlessly.

"Many thanks, my friend. Have you acquired lodging?"

Ichabod looked back toward town. "Thomas and I are going to inquire at the inn."

"Absolutely not!" Abraham exclaimed, gesturing back to the house. "You'll stay here in my home."

Ichabod glanced to Katrina, who was staring slightly wide eyed at him, before shaking his head. "We couldn't. Our stay will most likely be quite long. It would be an intrusion on your family."

Abraham stepped forward to place a hand on his arm. "You can't intrude on your own family, Ichabod. You must stay here. There's plenty of room."

Closing his eyes in guilt, Ichabod took a deep breath. "I can't-"

"I'll hear no more of it." Abraham glanced to the house again. "Carter, freshen rooms for our guests."

The old man standing on the porch nodded and returned indoors as Abraham turned back to them. "It'll be a relief to have other men staying here. I must say, Katrina and the children only entertain so much."

She rolled her eyes behind Abraham's back as he continued, "Now, why don't we all venture indoors and you can make yourselves at home. Katrina will see to any needs you may have."

With that, Abraham gestured for them to follow as he began up the path.

"Nice fella."

Casting a wary glance at Thomas, he allowed his eyes to settle on Katrina, who was looking back at him with an unreadable expression.

This was a terrible idea.

"Mama."

Her attention was drawn back to William, who was still clinging to her skirts.

With a smile, she spoke in a tone he'd never heard in her, a motherly tone. "Come, William. Let us go find Cassie, shall we? You can tell me all the mischief she's been up to."

At William's exuberant nod, Katrina took his hand and led him inside in Abraham's wake, speaking secretively with him as they went.

Exchanging a look, he and Thomas followed.

This was definitely a terrible idea.


	24. Chapter 24

_"Do you think we'll always be friends, Ichabod?"_

_Casting a sideways glance at her, he nodded. "Of course, we will."_

_"Even when we're old like my mother and father?"_

_He glanced down at his dangling feet as they hung over the docks, the water beneath capturing his gaze. "I hope so."_

_"Do you think we'll get married?"_

_Startled, his gaze shot to hers to find her staring at him intently, her green eyes sparkling in the setting sun's light._

_"Married? You mean, you and me? To each other?"_

_She nodded with a small smile, her red hair bouncing with her confirmation._

_Suddenly wishing he'd accompanied his father to dinner with his colleagues, he jerked his gaze back out over the water as his fingers gripped the edge of the docks with nervousness._

_"Wouldn't you want to marry me?"_

_The sound of her slight disappointment furthered his agitation as he shrugged. "I-I don't know."_

_"Well, do you think I'm pretty?"_

_His eyes widened as he glanced back at her. "I guess so...I mean, yes, you're pretty."_

_Her worried gaze turned to one of confusion. "Then, why don't you know?"_

_"I don't know," he quickly answered, feeling more nervous than ever. "I guess we could."_

_"Really?" she squealed excitedly._

_With a sigh, he nodded. "Sure."_

_Her lips on his cheek threw him completely off guard. She was there and gone in less than a second, but that didn't stop the hot blush from creeping up his collar._

_"Come on, Ichabod," she said, jumping up. "I bet Mr. Hubbard has some bread sitting in his window."_

_His eyes shot to hers. "You're not going to steal his bread again, are you?"_

_She smiled with a raised eyebrow. "Maybe."_

_"Katrina..."_

_One of these days, they were going to get caught._

_"As long as he's nice to me, he can keep his yucky bread." She began walking in the direction of the bakery. "Come on, Ichabod."_

_With a another, much heavier sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. She was going to get him into trouble again. He just knew it._

"Hey, Crane. It's time to eat."

Sitting up, he wiped at his eyes, the smell of fresh bread filling his senses. Thomas was standing in the doorway awaiting his answer. "I'll be down in a moment."

With a sigh, he attempted to shake the memory from his mind as he stood, wondering why his dreams always revolved around her. No matter how much space he attempted to put between them in life, she always occupied his dreams. It seemed every night was filled with her presence, despite his ardent attempts to put her from his mind.

Upon entering the dining room, he discovered everyone already around the table. Dinner was spent listening to Abraham carry most of the conversation, while Thomas interjected his own opinions and complaints at various points.

His attention, however, was fixated on his children. They were absolutely beautiful and, for the first time, he had a chance to really look at them. He was intrigued by the fact that they're small faces carried so much of he and Katrina in them.

He learned that Cassie was quite talkative, while William occupied himself by playing with Katrina's long hair. The boy seemed very withdrawn, only ever speaking to Katrina and Cassie, that is, when he spoke at all, which was a rarity. From his observations, he discovered just how true Katrina's words about Abraham's interests in his children were. The only time he ever acknowledged them was to scold, more than usual it was William's lack of words that triggered the scolding. It was clear Abraham's tolerance for William's refusal to speak up when spoken to was short. At many points throughout dinner, he'd had to suppress his urge to reach and knock Abraham right out of his chair. Between his scolding of William and his constant criticism of Katrina, Ichabod was unsure just how he managed to keep himself in his chair.

As dinner came to a close, Thomas led William and Cassie into the sitting room, supposedly to show them some trick he'd learned much to their excitement. Upon their exit, Abraham turned to him, "Ichabod, I'll be going into town to meet a few colleagues. Perhaps you might like to accompany me."

"At this hour?" He chanced a glance at Katrina to find her scrutinizing her hands. "I suppose I could for a while."

"Wonderful," Abraham exclaimed as he stood and turned to Katrina. "No need waiting up, darling."

"I never do," she mumbled, standing to begin removing the plates from the table.

As Abraham began making his way to the door, Ichabod stood to follow, but her hand on his arm caused him to pause and glance at her. Her eyes were on Abraham's back as she spoke, "I know you're quite angry with me, but..." Her eyes came to him. "Don't do or say anything to him. I honestly don't care what he does."

Frowning, his eyes darted over her face. "What-"

"Ichabod? Are you coming?"

Quickly turning to face Abraham, he nodded. "Yes."

With a last glance at Katrina, he made to follow his friend, a little more than slightly confused.

As they reached the porch, Abraham turned to him. "I'm quite glad you're accompanying me into town."

With a frown, he asked, "Where exactly are we going at this hour?"

Abraham glanced back indoors as if looking for someone before nodding. "There's quite the tavern at the edge of town. I imagine after months on the battlefront, you'd appreciate a warm drink and... perhaps even a warm body to accompany it. I can't imagine being out there all that time without such delicacies."

Frown deepening, he shifted his feet. "Is that what you're going to do?"

Abraham gave him a pat on the back. "Of course, there are plenty of pretty ladies there that are willing to do anything for the right price."

"What about Katrina?"

Now Abraham was frowning as he glanced through the window to the sitting area where Katrina was laughing at Cassie as she was seemingly arguing with Thomas. "What about her?"

Anger beginning to seethe, he answered, "She's your wife."

Abraham rolled his eyes as he pulled his coat on. "Come now, Ichabod. Katrina has her tasks like all other wives, but I've found she's lacking in more than a few areas and no amount of attempting from me or my mother to change her has worked. I tolerate her of course, as I'm quite stuck with her, but the bedroom is not her most skilled of places. We don't even share a room as she's apparently too reserved. Besides, my needs must be met somewhere as I'm sure you can understand and the tavern is the perfect place. I must say I find myself there on quite the regular basis as I grew tired of Katrina's lack of interest some time ago."

No, he didn't understand. Not in the least.

"Of course, Abraham," he said, doing his best to keep his temper in check. "But I'm afraid I've realized I'm more than a little tired and must retire for the night."

Abraham sighed his disappointment before glancing at him oddly. "I don't mean offence, Ichabod, but are you...?"

"Am I? What?" To say Abraham looked slightly uncomfortably was putting it mildly.

"What I mean to say is that I've never seen you with a woman...in any sort of way. I'm simply curious as to if you...are perhaps...not interested in them. I can't help but make notice of it and...you were good friends with our trainer, Baron von Steubon."

The realization of what Abraham was implying shot through him, leaving him torn somewhere between disbelief and wanting to laugh in his face. If only the man knew of the places on his wife's body his mouth had been, he thought to himself darkly.

"No, Abraham, I simply view the act as something to be shared between a man and his wife, and as I'm lacking a wife..."

Abraham's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, well, then I suppose...I suppose I should be going."

Ichabod nodded as Abraham began down the steps, seemingly quite ready to get on with his night.

"I'll see you in the morning," Abraham called over his shoulder.

As he watched his _friend_ walk down the path, he had to contain the urge to chase him down and beat him senseless, or more accurately beat some sense into him. The man had the woman of his dream's and he still wasn't satisfied. He'd give anything to trade places with him. Shaking his head, he returned indoors to find that Thomas apparently had the ability to revert back into a four year old as Cassie was currently scrambling all about his back as he crawled on all fours while William occupied himself in the window seat with a book in his hand. Observing his son, he couldn't help but stare as the boy was completely absorbed in the book he was holding, not even glancing up at Cassie's ear piercing squeals.

"Thomas is quite energetic."

Quite startled at her being so near, he glanced to Katrina, who had come to stand beside him and found her offering him a glass.

"He is," he answered with a nod.

"I thought you were going with Abraham."

Eyes back on William, he shook his head. "Oh, I just...realized I was tired." At her silence, he couldn't help but glance at her only to find her with a small smile. "What?"

"Nothing," she said with a shake of her head as her eyes fell to her hands. "I'm simply glad you chose to stay."

With another smile, she made her way back to the dining room.

The decision to push down his nerves prompted him to down his glass of rum and follow her path. She was picking up a few dishes from the table when he entered.

"Katrina?"

Her cleaning stopped as she turned to face him with a small smile. "Yes?"

He was doing his best to think of a way to ask his question politely. "Is William alright?"

The obvious tensing of her body let him know he was treading dangerous waters.

"Of course, he is. Why would you ask me that?"

Stepping closer to her, he shrugged. "It's just... he doesn't really speak."

"He speaks." She was now twisting her hands in an agitated manner. "Did Abraham say something to you? He's always going on about William."

"No," he said quickly, feeling as though he'd just stepped into a hornet's nest. "It was just something I noticed about him."

"Well, he's fine," she bit out quickly before moving to pick some dishes up.

With a sigh, he laid his hand on hers. "I didn't mean to upset you. I was just curious about him."

Her eyes slid closed as she whispered, "I don't want you to think there's something wrong with him. He's perfect, Ichabod. He's just..."

As she brought a hand to her face, he gave a small smile when her eyes opened. "Alright."

"He's just quiet," she continued almost desperately. It was as if she were rehashing an old topic. "Cassie is so talkative, it simply leaves him no room to voice himself. He's very intelligent, he's simply shy."

"I understand," he assured, with a squeeze of her hand. "I just wanted to make sure."

She shook her head, seemingly not believing him. "Abraham implies the same thing. He's so afraid his friends will start calling William an invalid. He rides him so hard which only makes William close up more. He doesn't like attention the way Cassie does."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear as leaned his forehead against hers. "I simply know so little about him and..." He decided to redirect. "Cassie reminds me of you."

That earned a chuckle from her. "Are you saying I hog the conversation?"

"No, just that you've always been so independent and outspoken."

"She's like you, too," she said quietly, laying a hand to his chest, fingering a small tear in his shirt.

"Is she?"

She smiled. "Yes, both of them are. They're so smart and funny, with good hearts."

Her scent was beginning to overwhelm his senses. "Katrina..."

Her eyes lifted to his and caught, the sheer intensity in her green orbs taking his breath. Gaze falling to her plump lips, he began to lean into her.

"Mama!"

They jumped apart and glanced to the door through which Cassie's yell had originated from.

Breathing shaky, Katrina stepped away from him and ran a hand through her red hair. "I should go see what she wants." With a nervous chuckle, she added, "She'll only get louder."

With that, she moved to the sitting room leaving him to make an attempt at regaining his composure. He'd been with her less than a day and here he was, already seconds away from overstepping again. His complete and utter lack of control when in her presence was a flaw of his he would soon need to find a handle on. If he allowed her back into his heart again, he feared it would be the true end to him this time.

As he reentered the sitting area, he found Cassie and Thomas still upon the floor while William had taken to Katrina's lap as she spoke softly to him, his blue eyes heavy with tiredness. As she continued to speak to their son whilst stroking his dark hair, her green eyes rose to meet his gaze. The depth of her love and longing swept over and through him, bringing the realization that his fear of her taking his heart again was for naught. She couldn't reclaim it, for there was nothing there to reclaim. She'd been in possession of his heart for two decades, since he was a small boy hopelessly following in the tracks of a small girl with flaming red hair.

His dreams this night would surely be dominated by her once more.


	25. Chapter 25

"Do you mind if I sit with you?"

William jumped as he looked up at him from his place on the steps causing Ichabod to tense and mentally berate himself for having startled the boy. Clearing his throat, he gave him a bright smile to attempt easing the tension and gestured to the yard.

"It's a beautiful day. I thought I might join you. Is that alright?"

William looked about for a moment before hesitantly looking him over, almost as if he were inspecting some sort of bug. Fear that his son might refuse his company filled him, but was thankfully dashed as his head full of dark hair gave a slight nod.

Taking a seat on the steps of the porch next to his son, though minding to keep a couple of feet between them, he slowly brought out his knife and a piece of wood before setting about whittling at the wood. It was an ability he'd picked up while sitting around campfires with his comrades. At the time, he'd thought it an interesting enough way to pass the time, but, now, as he noticed William watching him intently, he had to force himself to hold back a smile at the success of a start at engaging the boy. William's eyes followed his every move, every scrape of the blade against the wood. They sat that way for a while with him choosing not to speak, afraid of pushing the boy too much.

About to blow the dust away from the wood, he glanced at his son to see him staring at it as if mesmerized. The thought of having an opportunity to actually interact with him struck him as he held the piece of wood toward his son. For a moment, William glanced from it, to him, then back again, before he hesitantly leaned forward to blow at the wood. As the dust flew out and away from them, a bright smile lit William's face and a laugh escaped his small body.

It was one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard.

"Very good, William."

Turning back to the wood, he continued his work, allowing William to do his part when needed, a task that he readily excepted as his. It was a time consuming task that took hours to complete, but William never left his side, even scooting closer to him to make his job easier. Every now and then, he'd make a comment about something in the yard, whether it was a small bird hopping about, or the gentle breeze that tickled at their skin. William would nod along to his commentary, observing anything he pointed out, but never speaking. Ichabod didn't mind in the least as he was too happy to be in his son's presence to allow anything to dampen this memory in the making.

As he placed the finishing touches to the piece, he looked over his work to inspect it before giving a side glance to his son.

"There, do you think it's alright?"

The boy quickly nodded his approval, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

"Would you like to have it?" he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

The boy's eyes widened, his nod coming even quicker than before.

"Well, there you are," he said, holding it out to him.

William readily accepted the small pistol with a large smile, turning it over in his hand with thorough examination. Then, he suddenly lifted it and aimed it as if to fire, his imaginary shot making itself known by the jerking back of his hand.

With a laugh, he patted the boy on the back. "Looks like you're well-versed in weaponry. We'll make a soldier out of you yet."

The bright smile that lit his son's face hit Ichabod in a much deeper way than he'd expected. As William took off into the yard fighting imaginary men, pride consumed him as he observed his son. It was a foreign feeling to him, but one that he welcomed fully.

As he continued watching William jump about the yard, he felt the sensation of eyes on him. Turning, he found Katrina leaning in the doorway smiling at him. When their eyes caught, she moved forward to take a seat next to him.

"Thank you."

"It was nothing," he whispered as his gaze danced over her, the morning's sunlight dancing in her red hair, giving her an almost ethereal look.

Her eyes left William to latch onto his. "It was everything."

Holding her gaze for a moment longer, he turned back to his son, who was currently ducking a blow.

"He has quite an imagination."

"Something he inherited from his father," she offered with a chuckle.

Releasing a laugh, he brushed the dust from his trousers. "Perhaps, but I have a feeling he got an equal dose of that particular trait what with his troublemaking mother. I think you forced imagination on me."

She shook her head as she smiled, "Oh, that's right, Ichabod, place all the blame on me. You didn't have to follow me around, you know."

"Sure, I didn't," he replied with a roll of his eyes. "As if you would have let me remain at home and miss out on your various criminal activities."

With a chuckle, she offered, "Well, I'm sorry I gave you so many frights. I thought you enjoyed our adventures."

"I did," he answered softly. "I would have followed you anywhere."

Green eyes came back to him as a small smile crept over her face.

"Mama," shouted William as he ran to them, presenting Katrina his new possession. "Look."

Accepting it, Katrina turned it over in her hand, then gave a bright smile to her son. "It's lovely, William. Did you thank Ichabod for your gift?"

The boy's eyes shyly met his before he shook his head, his dark hair once again falling down into his eyes.

Ichabod thought he'd save him by extending his hand. William observed the offered hand for a moment before disregarding it completely and vaulting himself into his arms, taking him completely by surprise. As his son's small arms wrapped around his neck, he felt his throat close up at the sudden emotion that overtook him. It didn't last more than a moment before William pulled back and took the small pistol from his mother's hands to run back to the yard, but that one moment meant everything to him.

"Are you alright?"

Clearing his throat, he nodded, doing his best to get his emotions under control. "Yes, I'm-I'm fine."

"He's never done that before, not with Abraham, not with anyone but Cassie and I." His eyes jerked to hers to find them filled with tears. "I wish more than anything he could know who you are, both of them." She shook her head despondently. "I've always loved being a witch, having power over everyone. It was the only thing I had for so long, but now..."

"Perhaps it won't always be this way," he whispered, desperate to believe his own words.

"By then, it'll be too late," she answered hopelessly. "William and Cassie might be grown, and this baby..."

The mention of their baby brought his eyes down to her slightly swollen belly. "Have I told you how much I love that?"

At her confused look, he nodded his head, wanting more than anything to reach out and touch the place his unborn child rested. "Seeing you with child. Knowing that a piece of us, our love, is growing there inside you. It's the most beautiful image in the world."

He heard her breath hitch as she glanced down at her hands that were fidgeting nervously in her lap.

"I wish I could touch you. I know I said I didn't want to be near you, but..." He sighed, sliding closer to her. "I love you, Katrina. I love you so very much. You make me so mad with every sort of feeling possible. I can barely breathe at times."

Her own breathing was growing heavy as she kept her gaze on her hands. "I thought we agreed I was to stay away from you, that you regretted me, hated me even."

His heart constricted at the pain in her voice, knowing he was the cause. "I didn't mean it. I was so overwhelmed that day, Katrina, confused. I'd just learned I was a father and then you were pushing me away and I just...I felt betrayed, alone. I was simply trying to make you hurt the way I was hurting."

She huffed as she looked back at him. "You think I don't hurt? That it doesn't pain me to be separated from you? To look at my children and know that their entire existence is a lie? To know that one day they'll grow to resent me for the secrets I've kept from them? Every moment of my life is underlined with pain, Ichabod. I live each day afraid that it will be my last with them."

Her words pulled at him. "I wish I could take your pain from you. I would do anything."

A sad smile creased her face. "But you can't. Despite everything, I've always been able to look at you and know that no matter how bad things were, at least you loved me. Because if someone as good and kind as Ichabod Crane could love me, then maybe my world wasn't so horrible. You've always been the one who believed in our love, that one day...we might find a way to be together, that we might find a way to balance our duty with our love and find a way around my coven. I never wanted to admit that it was my hope as well, my dream." Her eyes fell from him again. "But even that was taken from me when you said those words. Do you have any idea what that did to me? The nightmares-"

Her words breaking off sent him over the edge. His sanity was steadily slipping at her tears.

"Katrina," he whispered, laying a hand to hers. "My love-"

"Mama?"

His son's voice broke through, bringing him back to the awareness that they were not alone.

Jerking her hands from his, Katrina wiped at her tears before holding her arms out for their son. As William moved into them, she gave him a bright smile and lifted him up. "Why don't we go find Cassie and show her your new toy? I'm sure she'll be very jealous."

With a smile, William nodded as she turned to enter the house without another glance at him.

Turning back to the bright light of the day, he sighed. What had he made of his life?


	26. Chapter 26

Dinner was a quiet affair as Abraham had left early that morning to attend a meeting the next town over, stating he would be gone for a few days.

The only conversation during the entire meal was that of Thomas and Cassie both complaining over their envy of William's pistol. For his part, William only smiled proudly as he clung to Katrina, hiding his face in her hair at all the attention being bestowed upon him. Throughout, Katrina never once met his eyes. Instead, she focused her full attention on calming Cassie and speaking softly with William. It was still amazing to him to see her so motherly. The way she attended her children's every need was beyond beautiful to him.

After dinner, Thomas quickly excused himself, saying there was a pretty lady just waiting to be courted in town to which Ichabod had rolled his eyes. He only hoped the poor lady in question was ready for the whirlwind that was Thomas West.

"Time for bed."

Cassie instantly groaned in protest at her mother's words. "But Thomas isn't going to bed."

Katrina gave her daughter a teasing smile. "Thomas isn't a little girl in much need of sleep."

Cassie only frowned at Katrina's words as she crossed her arms and slumped in her chair. "It's not fair."

Sighing, Katrina stood and pointed to the stairs. "Now, Cassie. You too, William, up to bed."

In quite a bit of frustration, Cassie abandoned her chair and began dragging her feet toward the door. William, however, calmly stood and made his way around the table to stand in front of him. The boy looked him over for a moment in quiet contemplation before grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the stairs behind his sister. Ichabod glanced back at Katrina in confusion, but found her looking quite shocked as well.

"Where are we going, William?" he asked, curiously.

Cassie turned on the bottom step to look at her brother. "He wants you to tuck us in and tell us a story. Will you?"

At his daughter's hopeful expression, Ichabod found he could only nod in confirmation. With a last glance at what seemed to be a speechless Katrina, he allowed William and Cassie to mutually tug him up the staircase.

He was slightly surprised that the two shared a room, but from his observations of how much they clung to each other, he supposed he shouldn't have been. After the two had donned their bed clothes, Cassie had immediately jumped into the large bed and bounded her way under the covers. William, on the other hand, had reached up to him, silently requesting to be lifted up. Doing so, Ichabod set his son upon the bed, gently helping him slide beneath the covers next to his sister. Once they were properly tucked into the bed, he sat upon the edge next to William.

"Now then, what sort of story would you like to hear?"

Cassie sat up quickly, her blue eyes wide with excitement. "An adventure!"

Ichabod chuckled at his daughter's exuberance. "An adventure? Well, I've had quite a few of those." He raised an eyebrow. "If you lay back down, I'll tell you about an adventure I had with a little red headed girl that liked to get me in loads of trouble when I was a small boy."

His daughter fell back immediately, burying herself in her pillow before asking, "Red hair? Like me?"

With a smile, Ichabod ran his fingers through his little girl's red locks. "Exactly like yours."

Throughout the entire wild tale, their gaze remained fixed on him as he dramatically gestured about. However, it didn't take long for their matching blue eyes to steadily fall shut in sleep. Moving to pull the covers further up and over them, he leaned down to gently place a kiss on each of their heads before standing to stare at both of them. They were beyond precious. The idea that such beautiful creatures had come from him and Katrina was nearly unfathomable.

When he'd had his fill of their small faces, he turned and came up short as he found Katrina in the doorway watching him, her expression indecipherable. Quite nervous at the knowledge that she'd been watching him, he moved toward the door. For a moment, she simply stood there staring at him.

"Is everything alright?"

In answer, her eyes fell from him before she released a heavy breath and reached for his hand. He found himself at a complete loss as she began leading him down the hall into his room. As she closed the door, she turned to him.

The room was lit only by a few candles upon the dresser, but it was quite enough to send his heart racing as she started unlacing the front of her dress, never once taking her eyes from his.

"Katrina..."

He felt the need to protest. What with the look in her eyes and the steady movement of her hand further down her dress, he had no doubt as to where she intended this to go. To say he wanted what she obviously had in mind to happen would be quite the understatement, but his conscience was weighing heavily on him. Here he was in Abraham's home, having accepted his friend's generous offer of housing him, watching his wife undress herself for him.

As she slid her dress from her shoulders, she stepped from it and began removing the rest of her garments, the sight of her ever appearing skin setting his body aflame with a need that had not been met in quite some time.

"We can't. This is wrong."

As her hands deftly pulled at her laces, she answered, "And what's wrong with it? I just watched the man I love put our children to bed and now I'm standing here undressing before him fully intent upon feeling his love consume me."

The last of her garments fell away, leaving her completely bare before him, the sight of which stole his very breath. His eyes travelled down her body, taking in her full breasts and slightly swollen belly. She'd never been more beautiful to him. He didn't recall stepping toward her, but somehow he was suddenly in front of her, his hands laid over their unborn child. Bringing his eyes back to hers, he felt himself suck in a breath at the love he saw shining there.

"Katrina...I want to, but..."

Her hands rested at his waist, fingering the hem of his shirt. "But what?"

"Abraham-"

"Is no doubt accepting the sexual favors of some whore in the back of a tavern at this very moment," she finished quite heatedly.

Eyes falling closed, he whispered, "He's still your husband. You made a vow."

"I made a vow to always love you," she countered, gripping at his shirt. "And that is a vow that I have kept all these years."

The desire to give in was beginning to take hold. "I don't want our love to become a dirty thing, Katrina."

Her hand came to his face, her gentle strokes bringing his eyes to hers. "That is not a possibility."

Dropping his hands and clenching them at his sides in an attempt to keep from touching her, he answered, "We don't belong to each other."

A small smile crept into her features. "There are no two people in this world who belong to each other more than we, Ichabod Crane."

"So you would reduce us to the same as Abraham?"

She stepped even closer to him, her soft breasts now against his chest. "Ichabod, what Abraham is doing is disgusting and perverted. That man is..." Her gaze fell from him for a moment, before she sighed and brought her eyes back to him. "We are _nothing_ like him. I vowed in my heart to be yours for eternity, even if in my heart was the only place that could be."

He was unsure how to respond. "I..."

With another sigh, she stepped away from him, a pained expression on her face. "If you don't want to do this, then I understand, and I'll leave to never speak of it again. I would never want you to be with me for any other reason than that you truly wanted me." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "But if you're refusing me out of some misguided notion that Abraham deserves our respect and my fidelity, then that's something I refuse to understand. He doesn't love me. He's never even pretended to. The only time he and I ever share a bed is when he stumbles to mine, drunk, in the middle of the night, demanding that I..." She took a deep breath. "We are _not_ like him, Ichabod."

The ability to speak, or even move, was lost to him. However, when her eyes fell from him in obvious defeat and she began to bend to gather her clothing, he found his resolve and not a moment later, his hands were on her warm skin.

Her lips felt just as he remembered. Soft and gentle. Her scent intoxicating. Feeling his body come alive at her touch, it wasn't long before he was hovering above her worshipping every inch of her body as he never had before. He so relished in making her come undone again and again, until they were both spent.

The light rain tapped against the window in a soothing rhythm as he finally collapsed beside her, his breathing erratic to match her own, his body feeling wonderfully sated. Burying his head in her neck, he wrapped his arms around her as far as he could, cuddling into her warm skin, his eyes drawn to her heaving breasts as she tried to catch her breath. Her sudden laugh, however, caught him off guard. Raising his head up to look into her eyes, her short breaths hit his face.

"What?"

She shook her head. "I just now know where William acquired his need to constantly cocoon himself into me from."

With a smile, he wiped her damp hair from her face. "Is that so?"

"Yes, it is so," she answered with a laugh. "I can't tell you how many nights he's climbed into bed with me and snuggled into the same position."

"Well, he is my son," he said rather matter of factly.

A small smile crept to her face as her fingers stroked along his cheek. "He is."

Allowing his eyes to travel down her, he rested his hand against her belly. "I wonder what this one will be."

Her hand covered his. "I'm not sure, but as long as it's not twins again, I'll be perfectly content. Their birth was not my best day."

Releasing a chuckle, Ichabod moved down the bed to place a gentle kiss to their child's resting place. As he rested his cheek to her belly, her hand slid into his hair prompting him to look up at her.

"I wish I could be there with you."

She laughed. "The midwives would never allow it."

"I'd like to see them try to stop me," he answered with a chuckle of his own.

Her laughter filled him with more joy than he could express.

"Find a way for me to be there," he almost begged.

Her eyes softened as her fingers ceased their stroking of his hair. "I'm not sure that's possible, my love." She sighed, "But as soon as the baby comes, we can find a way for you to see him or her."

"No," he whispered defiantly. "I want to be with you when our baby draws its first breath. I want to be with you." Drawing her hand from his head, he threaded their fingers together. "They may never even know me as their father, Katrina. I'll never have the chance to be a father and I understand why, I do. You have to protect yourself and them from your coven. But is it really so much for me to ask to simply be there when our child is born?"

Gaze leaving his, her eyes fell closed. "No, it's not. You deserve to be there."

"Then, let me, my love. I'll do anything you ask of me."

Eyes opening, they found his. "We'll find a way."

Heart in his throat, he whispered, "You promise?"

A small smile lit her face. "I promise."

Relief filled him. "I love you, Katrina."

"Not nearly as much as I love you, Ichabod Crane."

Kissing his way back up to her lips, he hovered a breath away, his gaze on her beautiful green eyes. "Then maybe I should try a little harder to show you."

Her breath hitched as she grinned. "You're more than welcome to try."


	27. Chapter 27

"Ichabod!"

Turning quickly at the call of his name, he found Cassie darting across the street toward him. With a smile, he held his hands behind his back and waited for her to reach him.

"Well, hello there, Miss Cassie," he said upon her wrapping her arms around his legs.

She pulled back with a seemingly reprimanding expression. "You didn't eat breakfast with us."

He raised his eyebrow as he knelt in front of her. "I'm afraid I must beg your forgiveness for I was meeting with some old friends this morning."

Her small frown dissolved as a smile replaced it. "Are you going to services with us?"

"Uhm..."

Katrina came up behind Cassie, William in tow. "Cassie, how many times have I told you not to run off on your own?"

Cassie gazed up at Katrina with a frown. "But I saw Ichabod," she stated as if it should have been obvious.

Smiling at his daughter's response as well as her very Katrina-like manner in which she said it he, too, glanced up at Katrina who looked none too pleased with her daughter. "You're going to services?"

Her eyes met his. "Yes," she replied with a small smile. "Are you?"

"Well, I-"

"Please, Ichabod?" Cassie begged with a tug at his arm.

Eyes on his daughter, who was looking at him in a quite pleading way, he sighed. "I suppose. If it's alright with your mother, that is."

Katrina's smile widened. "How could I say no?"

Cassie squealed as she grasped his hand and began tugging him in the direction of the church. While his daughter pulled him along, Katrina fell into step beside him with William's hand in her own.

"You definitely need to be in church." He glanced to Katrina with a frown, who leaned close to him and whispered, "With all you did to me last night with that mouth of yours, you most definitely need to be begging for forgiveness."

Unable to stop the blush that began heating his collar, he coughed and placed his gaze firmly back on the path before them. Her ability to turn him red was one she'd possessed since they were small children and it was one he wished she would lose.

"I believe Thomas will be there as well," she added as if she'd said nothing improper at all.

Clearing his throat, attempting to put the images of the night before out of his mind, he asked, "Will he?"

Katrina nodded with an amused smile. "Yes, he said service was the perfect place to observe all the ladies about town who are in need of a dashing young soldier to keep them company."

With a chuckle, he shook his head. "I pity the poor girl who Thomas finally convinces to marry him."

"Ichabod?"

Glancing down at Cassie, he asked, "Yes, Miss Cassie?"

"Where is your family?"

More than a little taken aback, he stuttered out, "My family?"

She looked up at him. "Mhm."

"I..." He was at a loss. Glancing to Katrina, he found her staring at him with a bit of a startled expression. "Well, Cassie, I don't really have a family."

Cassie frowned, her little face contorted in confusion. "Why not? Did something happen to them?"

"Cassie," Katrina scolded with a warning look.

He sighed. "It's alright, Katrina." With a smile, he glanced back down to Cassie. "My parents live in England."

"That's really far away."

"It is," he replied with a nod.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't. I wish I did, though. William's very lucky to have a sister like you."

He cast a glance to his son to see him look up with a smile before moving between he and Katrina to take his free hand. His grin could not be contained at the sight of his son holding he and Katrina's hand. They were almost like a normal family.

"Do you have any children?"

Cassie's newest question caused his heart to constrict as he met his little girl's eyes, his eyes, that were shining up at him in curiosity.

"I uhm..."

"That's enough questions for now, Cassie," Katrina cut in. "You need to begin the process of calming yourself for service."

"But mama-"

"No, 'buts,' Cassie."

Silence fell between them as they continued to the church. Upon reaching the building, William released Katrina's hand to begin pulling him inside. With a glance back at Katrina, he found her smiling as she wrangled Cassie through the door.

When William led him into a particular pew in the back, he noticed Thomas already seated.

"Crane, I wasn't expecting you here."

He sighed as he took a seat beside his friend. "Cassie practically demanded my presence."

Thomas chuckled. "Well, at least I know your weakness, now."

"My weakness?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

His friend gave him a sideways glance before nodding past him. "Red heads."

Following Thomas' gaze, his eyes caught Katrina's as she and Cassie made their way to sit beside him.

"I suppose you're right," he whispered with a small smile.

"Hello, Thomas," Cassie said cheerfully as she adjusted herself beside Katrina.

"Hello to you, too, Cassie."

As Reverend Knapp began speaking, William made himself at home in his lap as he toyed with his small hat. The fact that he was sitting in the middle of a holy church next to his married childhood love whom he'd had two children with out of wedlock with another on the way did not escape his conscience. His conscience that was weighing quite heavily on him as he considered the events that occurred the night before.

He glanced at Katrina out of the corner of his eye. Almost as if she felt he would look at her, her eyes met his. As her gaze danced over him, she frowned and mouthed, 'Are you alright?'

He tore his eyes from her, letting them rest on the top of his son's dark head, who was now leaning back against his chest, his legs hanging on each side of his own. What had he done?

To his shock, Katrina's hand slid into his, pulling them down to hide in the folds of her skirt. Eyes darting to hers as she threaded her fingers through his, he found her gazing at him in concern.

Once again, however, he looked away from her, his eyes now on his daughter, who was picking at a loose thread in her dress.

His children were beautiful, their children. His and Katrina's. And yet, they were a lie. He'd not realized the consequences of his actions to their full extent. He'd been so concerned with himself, Katrina, and Abraham, but had yet to truly consider his own children.

Of course, he'd thought about the obvious. Would they grow their entire lives never knowing who they truly are? Where they truly came from? Would they always have the impression that their father didn't love them? Didn't care for them one way or the other lest in the public eye? Their lives were already destined to be fraught with hardship concerning their abilities, the things that made them special. But who was he to place such a burden as this upon them? If knowledge of who they really were ever reached their ears from another apart from Katrina, what would happen to them? Would they resent her? Would they hate her even? Would they hate him for never speaking up? Now that he was growing to know them, to get close to them, he couldn't help but consider what they would think should they learn that he was their father.

Katrina's fingers slid over his knuckles, pulling his gaze to hers. It was fairly obvious she was concerned as she was biting her lip into extinction. His beautiful love. Why was life so cruel to them? Over the last near to nine years, they'd danced around the issue of just what it was that they were. Friends? Lovers? Soul mates? Were they any of those things or all of them? He'd considered it often, why such feelings as the ones he had for her would be allowed to exist if she weren't meant to be his. How could she not be meant for him? But she was always so steadfast in her belief, in her refusal of him. Yet, here she was, leading him down the path of adultery. He was going willingly of course, but that didn't make it right. He simply could not wrap his mind around the fact that she couldn't be his wife, yet she nearly always consented to be his lover, despite the fact that she had a husband. What were they doing? Would it always be this way? Stolen nights of bliss in each other's arms? Would the child she carried now be their last, or would they continue in their deception of everyone, their precious children included? Could they really be so selfish?

Her hand left his, leaving him feeling empty and cold where her warmth had just been.

"Crane?"

Jerking his eyes to Thomas, he frowned. "What?"

Thomas raised an eyebrow as he nodded to the front of the church. "Service has ended."

Gaze sweeping the now bustling building, his frown deepened. Had so much time really passed?

"Ichabod?" His eyes jerked to hers to find her staring at him in a mixture of confusion and concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," he whispered with a cracked voice. Clearing his throat, he nodded. "I'm fine."

Her expression didn't change, telling him she didn't believe him for a moment. "You should wake William. It's time to go."

Eyes falling to his son, who was still leaning against him only now fast asleep, he sighed, "He's alright."

Shifting his son, he rested William's head against his shoulder as he lifted him up and stood before waiting for Katrina to hesitantly make her way out of the pew with Cassie.

Upon reaching the door, Alfred gave a broad smile. "Mr. Crane, it was wonderful to see you here for service."

Nodding to Alfred, he answered, "Of course, Reverend. It was wonderful to be able to attend."

"I trust you and young Mr. West have found a place to reside in our humble town?"

He shifted uncomfortably before glancing at Katrina, who sighed, "He's staying in my home. Abraham offered them rooms for the duration of their stay."

Alfred's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

Ichabod couldn't read the man's expression. He, like Katrina, was adept at hiding his emotions. He chalked it up to being a supernatural gift they shared, one that unnerved him.

"That's quite the generous offer," Alfred added, eyes narrowed.

"It was," answered Katrina seemingly annoyed. "Abraham does love being perceived that way."

Alfred's gaze jumped between them. "So it would seem."

"Hello there, Reverend," came Thomas' voice from behind him. "Lovely service."

With a humble nod, Alfred smiled. "Thank you, Mr. West. I trust your stay in Sleepy Hollow is well?"

"Oh, yes, " Thomas replied, his eyes trailing after a few young ladies who had just exited the church. "Quite well."

Shaking his head, Ichabod shifted William before turning to Katrina. When their eyes met, he raised an eyebrow making it clear he was ready to go.

"Well, Alfred, I suppose we should be going now. The children are hungry."

"Of course, Mrs. von Brunt," Alfred answered with a rather stern look. "Give my regards to your _husband_."

Jaw clenched, Katrina took Cassie's hand and began walking away.

With a last nod to Alfred, Ichabod made to follow her with Thomas following close behind.

"Mama, are we still having our picnic?" Cassie asked.

"Yes, sweetheart, just as soon as we acquire what we need from home."

"Are you coming on our picnic, Ichabod?"

He glanced at Katrina, who wasn't looking at him. "I'm not sure, Miss Cassie. I believe Thomas and I will dine in town."

Cassie stopped in her walk, pulling her hand from Katrina. "Please."

Katrina sighed at her daughter's plea before finally looking at him, her eyes blank, unreadable.

Clearing his throat, he suggested, "Perhaps you should spend some time with your mother and brother, Cassie. I wouldn't want to intrude on your family outing."

With a huff, Katrina reached for Cassie's hand and resumed her walk.

"What did you do to her?"

Throwing an irritated glare at Thomas, he fell into step behind her.

Upon reaching the von Brunt home, Ichabod found himself unsure what to do with his son as he was still fast asleep against his shoulder.

"Cassie, go grab the basket. It's in the kitchen." As Cassie left the room, she spun to him and Thomas, her eyes fixing on him in clear agitation. "Thomas, perhaps you could help Cassie?"

Thomas glanced at him with raised eyebrows before nodding and heading for the kitchen. As soon as he was out of the room, she began, "What's wrong with you?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing."

Her eyes narrowed. "If you don't want to talk about it, fine, but you're the one who wanted to spend time with William and Cassie. I don't understand what's happened between this morning and now."

Once again shifting his son's weight, he sighed, "I simply realized that maybe that wasn't a good idea."

Eyes softening, she stepped toward him, her hand coming to his cheek. "What's wrong, my love?"

"Just..." He felt his throat close off as he barely managed to get out, "Please take him."

Confusion evident in her features, she nodded and laid her hand to William's back with a gentle shake. "William...sweetheart."

His son burrowed his head further into his neck as a small moan of protest left him.

Katrina's eyes returned to his before she reached for William. "Here, just give him to me."

As he attempted to hand him off, William's arms came up to wrap around his neck tightly. "No, mama."

"William," he whispered gently. "Your mother is going to take you on a picnic."

His son's head lifted to catch his eyes. "You, too?"

Unsure how to respond, he glanced to Katrina who was staring at them in quiet disbelief. With a sigh, he nodded. "Yes, William, I'll be accompanying you as well."

"Yay," came Cassie's voice as she came to stand beside them. "You're coming, Ichabod?"

"Yes," he answered, his eyes meeting Katrina's tiredly. "I'm coming."


	28. Chapter 28

"Are you going to tell me?"

Glancing at her, he found her eyes on their children, who had just followed Thomas to the small stream a few yards away.

"Tell you what?"

She rolled her eyes. "Why you suddenly have decided you do not want to know your children."

With a sigh, he dropped his eyes to the blanket beneath them. "I want to know them."

"But...?"

"I just...I don't want them to hate me," he admitted softly.

The feel of her eyes on him tugged at him, but he willed himself to keep his on the blanket.

"Why would they hate you?"

Swallowing down what felt like the knot in his throat, he shook his head. "For not telling them."

Silence fell between them, the sounds of nature and Cassie's giggles the only ones reaching his ears. At a rather thrilled squeal from Cassie, his gaze found his daughter being thoroughly soaked by Thomas and William who'd taken to the stream and were presently splashing her. The small smile that came to his face could not be helped despite the feelings coursing through him.

"We can't tell them," she whispered after a time.

A heavy breath escaped him. "I know."

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her shift closer to him, her shoulder brushing against his before her hand laid over the back of his against the blanket, her fingers slipping between his.

"Ichabod-"

"I know they'll be angry with you, maybe even hate you. I've always known that, but...I've only just realized that if I spend time with them, get to know them and them-me..." His eyes slid to hers to find a frown creasing her features as she stared at him. "They're going to hate me, too, Katrina."

Her eyes fell to their hands as she began rapidly blinking. "I won't let that happen."

"And how will you stop it?" he asked softly. "Whether it be tomorrow, or twenty years from now...they'll find out, Katrina. They'll realize that the two people who were supposed to love them, protect them, have been lying to them since the moment they were created."

Face contorting into sorrow, she jerked her eyes back to his. "But we _are_ protecting them. If my coven ever discovers who they are...what they are..." She gave a hard swallow. "As they grow, William and Cassie will understand the responsibility that comes with being powerful beings, the secrecy that comes with it, and they will understand why we're doing this. But even if they don't..." With a squeeze to his hand, she moved even closer to him, her face so near they were sharing each other's breath. "I will never let the blame fall on you. I will take it all, my love."

Lifting a hand to stroke her cheek, he shook his head. "You may have made the decision, but I've chosen to go along with it. They will resent me."

"Ichabod-"

"If my parents had kept such a secret from me, I'm not sure I would have been able to forgive them."

She shook her head. "This isn't the same thing."

"But it is, Katrina." He glanced to his children who were still splashing away. "My father and Abraham share many traits. With both of them, they're main motivation is by society and what it thinks of them. I know, in his way, my father loved me, but...he never said it, never went out of his way to show it." His son's smile was so bright, his daughter's laughter so precious. "If I were to find out that my true father was someone else, someone who would have loved me, cherished me...it's not fair to them, Katrina."

"You and I both know that life isn't fair, Ichabod. If it were, we would be raising our children together...as a blissfully wedded husband and wife."

Shaking his head, he added, "William flinches every time Abraham so much as looks at him while Cassie goes out of her way to please him and he never so much as glances at her." His eyes found hers again. "We would condemn our children to this fate? To grow up with the burden of being unloved?"

"We don't have a choice," she whispered dejectedly.

Frustration began to seep into him. "We could leave here."

Her expression fell into despair. "My love..."

Once again, he touched her face. "We could. Just because I'm a Witness doesn't mean I must stay here and...you're my protector. Wouldn't we be safer together, away from danger?" As her breathing began to pick up, he leaned his forehead to hers. "We could have everything we ever wanted, a family, a life lived together."

She shook her head. "We have responsibilities to more than just ourselves. The world's future depends upon us to make the right decisions." He dropped his hand from her, his frustration deepening as she continued. "You have to stay here and learn the things that will help you in your mission, with Washington and Franklin, the ones who are preparing you."

Jaw clenched, he pulled away from her completely.

"Please, don't be angry with me for doing what you and I both know is right."

Anger crept into him as his breathing began to become erratic, his chest rising and falling heatedly. "I don't care to hear your excuses again. I've heard them all before."

Her sigh reached his ears. "Then, why do you keep pushing this? You always do this, just when I think you understand."

"Because I love you," he bit out heatedly, his gaze jerking to hers.

The flinch of her body away from his combined with the panicked expression she bore as she quickly turned her gaze to their children calmed him considerably.

"I'm sorry," he whispered after a moment. "I just...I love you so much, Katrina."

Eyes still on their oblivious son and daughter, she nodded. "I know."

"Mama!"

His gaze flew to Cassie who was coming up the hill toward them.

Katrina smiled brightly. "What is it, sweetheart?"

Cassie dropped to the blanket in front of them, water dripping from her red curls. "Look what I found." Her small hand shot out, palm up, to reveal a small butterfly.

A sharp gasp of delight left Katrina as she held out her hand for her daughter to ease the small creature over. "It's beautiful, Cassie."

"It came right to me and sat in my hand!"

Katrina smiled as she observed the colorful creature. "Did it? Well, isn't that something?"

Ichabod asked, "Have you never caught a butterfly before?"

Cassie gave an exuberant shake of her head. "I've never caught anything before! William always has to catch things for me. Mama says it's because I can't be still long enough."

Speaking of William, he came bounding down upon the blanket beside them.

"Did you see what Cassie caught, William?"

The boy gave his mother a bright smile as he crawled to lean into her.

"William," Katrina laughed, "You're getting me all wet!"

His son's giggle floated through the air as he wrapped his arms further around Katrina who was half heartedly attempting to escape. It was truly a sight for him to take in. His love being taken to the ground by their two beautiful children. It was almost enough to swipe all doubt from his mind...Almost.

* * *

"Put him down here," she whispered, pulling back the covers of the bed.

Once again, his son had taken to his arms and fallen asleep. They'd had quite the day out beside the stream, leaving his little one completely spent. Gently lowering William to the bed, he observed Katrina tugging the small boots that adorned his feet while glancing to Cassie who was climbing in on the other side.

"I'm not sleepy, mama," she said, even as she wiped at her eyes in an attempt to keep them open.

Now removing William's filthy shirt, Katrina sighed, "Yes, you are. Now lie back and get some rest. You've had a long day."

Cassie did as she was told, then turned her blue eyes to his. "Will you tuck me in, Ichabod?"

Hesitation took him over as he noticed Katrina glance back at him. They'd not spoken again regarding their conversation earlier, but the tension between them was palpable.

"Of course, Miss Cassie," he said, making his way around the bed. Lifting the blankets up and over his daughter, he gave a small smile. "You were very pretty today."

Cassie's eyes fell closed, but that didn't stop her grin. "Really? As pretty as mama?"

Eyes flickering to Katrina, who was slipping the covers over their son, he nodded. "Prettier."

"Ok," came her small whisper as sleep began to take hold of her.

He remained standing there until he was content that she was in fact asleep. With a brush of his hand through her red locks, he leaned down to place a kiss to her forehead. "Sleep well, my little love."

Overcome with emotion, he began making his way from the room. Exiting through the door without a glance back, his need for air was pushing him quickly down the hall and into his room. Throwing the window open, he leaned on the seal, taking in a much needed breath, allowing the cool night air to seep into his lungs. He'd felt as if he'd been holding his breath in since service earlier in the day, his emotions scattered all over. Anger. Frustration. Happiness. Joy. Longing. Sorrow...Rejection. He felt as if he'd experienced the gauntlet of emotions and now all he wanted was to get away from it all. With another deep breath, he glanced out into the night toward the line of trees behind the von Brunt home. Night had fallen and now, as he found himself staring into the dark woods, he felt his heart beginning to beat so rapidly that he felt it would beat right out of his chest at any moment. Collapsing against the window seal, he released the sob he'd been holding in for what felt like years.

"Ichabod..."

He couldn't bring himself to turn to her. He couldn't bring himself to do anything but let the floodgates open, only furthered by her body pressing into his back, her arms coming around him.

"My love," came her whisper as she pressed a kiss to his back. "I'm so sorry."

Unable to hold himself up any longer, he slid to the floor, doing his best to gain control of his breathing, but found it evading him. Her hands made their way to his face as she knelt beside him.

"Look at me," she whispered soothingly. "Just look at me and breathe. Breathe with me."

Staring into her green eyes, he followed her example as she took in slow breaths, her fingers cupping his neck as her thumbs gently stroked his jaw. Finally, after what seemed forever, his eyes fell closed as his breathing calmed. It didn't take long for her hands to begin tugging at him until he was leaning against her, his head against her breasts, her hands around his shoulders. After a moment of simply allowing her love to consume him, he whispered, "What is to become of us, Katrina?"

Her response didn't come quickly causing him to dread her answer all the more.

"Katrina?" he prompted again, gripping the back of her dress.

With a deep breath, she answered, "This is it, Ichabod. Neither of us want to admit it. We've delayed it, hoping another outcome would present itself, but I think we've both always known...this is likely all we'll ever have."

Eyes falling closed, he tightened his hold on her, fearing that she would disappear from his grasp at any moment. "You expect me to simply accept that? To not hope for more?"

"Of course not," she whispered, her hands stroking his hair. "I would never ask you to relinquish your hope, but we can't keep doing this. You do need to accept that right now...we can be no more than we are. Whether we want to admit it or not, I am married to that..." At her pause, he lifted her gaze to find her eyes filled with unshed tears which she quickly blinked away. "I'm married to Abraham. William and Cassie believe him to be their father. Those are facts, my love. Facts that cannot be forgotten simply because we're caught up in a whirlwind of emotion at the moment. These last two days, we've experienced a freedom with each other and with our children we'll likely never have again." She shook her head. "You have to stop getting angry with me."

More than confused, he frowned. "What?"

With a sigh, she answered, "Every time you get this notion that I can just up and run away with you, or throw away all the work I've accomplished here and am still accomplishing, I don't think you comprehend just what you do to me."

"Katrina-"

"I know this is hard for you," she interrupted gently. "And I know you have every right to be angry, furious even, but there's nothing I can do to help that. I have given you _everything_ I possibly can."

Overcome with emotion, he attempted to respond, but found none forming.

"I have given you my heart, my body, nearly three beautiful children. Ichabod, I would give you my very soul if I could, but when-" Her eyes fell from him to their now entwined hands. "Forgive me, my love, but I'm simply not sure what you want me to say. We've discussed this so many times, so many different ways. This discussion has began to circle in repetitiveness and it's draining all the tolerance I have." She sighed despondently. "And it always ends with you scolding me, or calling me names. You storm off with words of your love being gone and your never wishing to see me again. Then, I'm left completely alone in the aftermath of your outbursts."

"Katrina-"

"No," she whispered, holding up a hand. "I need to get this out." She took another deep breath. "I have lain in my bed and wept for you, for the pain I know I've caused you, for the absence I never cease to feel when you're not here with me. At times, I've been so in despair that death has held its arms out toward me, tempting me to accept its comfort. The loss of your love nearly drove me mad."

Taken aback at her confession, he felt his heart tearing in such a way as it never had before. The very idea that he'd caused her to think of death was too much. Unable to take another moment of her sorrow, he leaned completely into her, capturing her lips in a desperate kiss. Hands tugging her even closer to him, he pulled her into his lap, needing to fill her with his love. It took her a only moment to respond to him, but then her hands wove through his hair as she pressed flush into him, drinking in all he had to offer.

"I'm so sorry, Katrina," he whispered desperate for her to know. "I'm so sorry, my love."

Her tears wet his cheeks as she leaned her head to his. "Just please don't do that to me again. Please."

They sat that way for a time, simply breathing in each other's love. He'd made mistakes with how he'd handled things in the past, but he couldn't help the thought that things were different this time. There was more than just he and Katrina to consider.

"I know I've handled things terribly," he finally whispered, catching her eyes. "I just...how many will we have, Katrina?" His hands fell to her belly where their child rested. "Will we stop with this one? Or will we have another? And then another? How many children will I be forced to ignore? To give to Abraham to call his own?"

Her mouth opened to respond, but no words came forth.

Leaning close to her, he shook his head. "We were meant for more than this, Katrina. I know we were. I understand, I truly understand why we can't be...but we've been reduced to committing adultery, to sneaking about as if our love is wrong and should be hidden."

Hands lifted to his face, she spoke softly, "I can't answer those questions, Ichabod, but...we don't have to-" A shaky breath left her as she closed her eyes for a moment before focusing back on him. "We will do whatever you want. What happens from here on is in your hands, my love."

Eyes dancing over her tense face, he answered, "I don't know. I know I don't want to live a life of secrecy, but I also know I don't want to live a life without you."

The hard swallow she gave as she considered his words left him curious as to what she was thinking about.

"Ichabod, no one knows a life of secrecy more than I. My entire life, I've had to keep a part of myself hidden from the world. When people ask me how my mother died, I have to lie. When I found a love, I had to lie. No one even knows who we are to each other, how we once ran the streets as children hand in hand. I have two beautiful children who I have been lying to and about since the moment I knew of their existence. And now, I'm sitting here with you discussing if we should carry on with how we feel." She laughed tiredly. "Another lie doesn't bother me, Ichabod. It's a way of life for me. But I understand that it's not _your_ way of life. You've never been one who was comfortable with deception. So, I'll say again...this is your decision, my love."

Taking in her serious face, he couldn't help but wonder at the sorts of thoughts she must entertain. So much of her true self was hidden behind a steel wall that no one was permitted to enter, not even him at times. He considered himself lucky he was allowed in at all with how skittish she was to allow affection toward others to be seen. With a heavy breath, he brought a hand up to brush a few strands of hair from her eyes.

"I can't lose you," he whispered in defeat. Meeting her gaze, one that permitted nothing in the way of what she was thinking, he added, "I'll take anything you offer me, Katrina."

She leaned in, brushing her cheek to his as she whispered in his ear. "My heart and body are yours." Her lips ghosted the shell of his ear. "Take both, my love."

With a firm grasp on her waist, he stood them both up before carrying and depositing her on his bed. As he began to remove his clothing, he took in the tenderness gracing her features as she observed him. So little happiness followed either of them, but here, together...he felt they almost had it. Kneeling before her, he gently began removing her boots.

"They deserve better," he whispered, wanting her to know that just because they'd reached a decision for the moment, their discussion was far from over.

"I love our children," she began softly. "And I love you more than anything in this world, but...don't all mothers? Don't all true lovers?"

With a frown, he glanced up to her. "Katrina-"

"It's isn't fair," she cut in as her fingers deftly pulled at the laces of her dress. "They do deserve better and so do we. We have sacrificed our happiness and now we must sacrifice our children's happiness because there are so many other people who need us to. All those mothers, all those lovers, they deserve happiness, too. But they'll never have it if we fail to stop what is coming to steal it away."

Returning to his task, he finished with her feet before sliding his hands up her legs and latching onto her dress to pull it from her.

"I'm not going to stop hoping for more," he answered as her body became exposed for him, "Attempting to find a way."

"Never stop hoping, Ichabod," she whispered, her hand finding his cheek. "Never."

At the end of his patience at being separated from her, he leaned up to capture her mouth with his own. With gentle care he settled himself between her thighs, paying mind to the place their baby rested.

"This will be an old habit for us one day," he softly whispered in her ear. "I swear it will be."

Hands teasing his back, she nodded. "I shall hold you to that, my love."

With that promise, they once again met each other in a most sacred way, soaking in every moment of the other's love.


	29. Chapter 29

The light breeze was a welcomed friend as he walked up the path toward the von Brunt home. A couple of weeks had passed since he'd made the dreaded journey to Sleepy Hollow and he now found that the dread he had previously felt at staying at the residence was gone. His time spent in the old home had been quite peaceful. No war or gunfire attempting to tear him apart. No worries save simply finding things to pass the days.

Thomas was having a wonderful time, having gotten the chance to flirt with numerous young ladies about the town. He had to admit that the boys skill was improving, if not still annoying. While in his company, he found that the young ladies actually responded to the boy and it was completely befuddling to him how Thomas managed it.

Other times, he was with William and Cassie as they pulled him around on many adventures slaying dragons and saving damsels. Though, Cassie had insisted they save a prince a few times as well. His daughter's outspoken nature reminded him quite a great deal of his adventures with Katrina as a child, following her around helplessly as she led them into battle. Cassie's independent nature was always overpowering his and William's weak wills. He found it was nearly impossible to refuse her anything, a quality she no doubt acquired from her mother.

When they escaped Cassie's big blue eyes, William, who had grown quite attached to him, would often pull him about to show him the various animals in the barn. His son had a soft nature and his excitement over caring for the animals never failed to set a permanent smile to Ichabod's face. The boy's patience when caring for the creatures was nearly as impossible to tear his eyes away from as Cassie's sweet smile.

With a shake of his head, he pushed open the gate to the house as he considered Katrina's pregnancy and how it had him completely confused. With every day that passed, he found himself attacked from every angle as her appetite was unyielding. He'd simply be walking down the hall when he'd suddenly be pulled into a room, her mouth covering his immediately and quite ferociously. The barn had seen their visits as well, the poor animals falling witness to their passionate acts.

Abraham was rarely home as he was always busy with something or another. Katrina said it was usually someone rather than something that kept him occupied. She never went into great detail on the man's various adulterous activities other than saying it was better another endured him than her, but it had been enough to make him want to strangle Abraham.

When Abraham was home, he insisted Ichabod accompany him to all the business meetings and parties in town. While he would have much preferred to remain behind with Katrina and his children, he'd accepted upon the occasions that he was able to decipher Abraham's business meetings and parties were legitimately such and not outings involving taverns filled with temptations too much for his friend to resist. He had the overwhelming feeling that he would not be able to contain himself when it came to keeping his fist out of the man's face.

This fact, however, did little to ease the guilt he felt when in his friend's presence. No matter his opinion of the man's qualities, he didn't deserve what they were doing to him. Here he was, opening his home to him, and yet every chance he got he'd find himself doing unmentionable things with his friend's wife, taking more pleasure from her than anyone should be allowed. However, there was no refusing not only the fulfillment of burning desire, but also the joy he experienced while in her presence. She made him so happy in those moments where it was simply the two of them, reminiscing about their adventures or discussing how much of them there was in their children. It was such bliss to simply be with her.

As he entered through the front door, his smile faded as he suddenly found that he'd stumbled upon an annoyed Abraham and furious Katrina.

"That's exactly what they are Abraham. Children! They don't know any different."

Completely at a loss for what to do, he wasn't sure if he should continue through the house, or backtrack to the door.

"I will not have my son be raised as someone who clings to his mother. You're making him weak!"

"He's a child!" she nearly screamed, throwing her hands up in frustration.

Abraham pointed a finger at the stairs. "And children need to learn. It's time for him to grow up. I've had enough of his lack of communication and constant refusal to speak to me."

"You expect too much of him," she answered with a shake of her head. "He's afraid of you. All you do is yell at him or scold. What do you really expect him to do, Abraham?"

"Anything!" he yelled. "He'll never amount to anything." He slung his hand to the stairs again. "He has no skill. He's completely useless! He has nothing of me in him."

Katrina let out a harsh laugh. "And I thank God for that every day."

Abraham raised his hand as if to backhand her when Ichabod quickly stepped forward into the room. "Abraham!"

Startled, Abraham whirled to him as Katrina's face turned away from him. With a last glare at Katrina, Abraham walked past him. "Never marry, Ichabod. Wives will drive you mad. It's not worth it."

Once Abraham was out the front door, he sighed and looked to find Katrina gone. The banging of pots through the kitchen door, however, alerted him to her location. Upon entering, he found her cutting vegetables rather heatedly. Hesitantly, he moved to stand beside her, quietly taking in her frustrated mannerisms and angry expression.

"Don't you have servants to do that?"

"I sent them away," she muttered out lowly.

Nodding his head, he picked up a knife and joined her in cutting, though much more calmly.

"I hate him."

Not surprised by her statement, he offered softly, "I'm sure he was just tired from his late night."

"Don't make excuses for him," she bit out with a slam of her knife into an unsuspecting carrot. "You just caught him at a time where he wasn't upholding his facade of an existence. He pretends to care about us, but behind closed doors..."

He frowned, taking in her shaking hands. He recalled her mentions before, calling Abraham a monster as well as his scolding glares. He'd done his best to put it from his mind as he knew he'd kill the man with his bare hands if he ever discovered Abraham had laid a hand on her. "Katrina, does he...?"

"Yes," she said, continuing her cutting. Pretty soon there'd be nothing left of the poor vegetables to use.

Taking a deep breath, he gripped the counter, an overwhelming anger taking him over at the thought of Abraham hurting her. What went through that man's head was beyond him. Katrina was everything a man could want.

"It doesn't bother me. It's rare and I can handle him doing whatever he wants to me, but he's so hard on William. I can't stand for him to even touch them."

As she brought her knife down again, it slipped and sliced her hand.

"Katrina!" Grabbing a towel, he applied pressure to it.

"It's fine," she said shortly.

"It's not fine. Let me see."

Dabbing at the blood, he found it to actually be very slight. As he applied pressure to her wound, he observed her darting eyes as she looked everywhere but at him. Once the bleeding stopped, he set the towel down and pulled her to him, her head resting against his chest.

"He simply doesn't understand, William," she whispered, her fingers clinging to the back of his shirt. "Nor does he care to. You've spent a couple of weeks with William while Abraham has had years and already you know him better, have spent more time with him." She pulled back to look at him. "He loves you so much. They both do."

"They do?" he asked, surprise rising in him.

She reached up to cup his face. "Of course, they do, my love. Cassie said she hopes you never leave."

He couldn't help his smile. However, it didn't last long. "I received a letter today."

"From who?"

"General Washington," he answered slowly. "Apparently, they found the Hessians that were shadowing them with the help of your coven. They've been dealt with."

He saw understanding flash across her face as she quickly pulled away from him and turned back to her vegetables.

"They'll be making camp near here again in a week's time," he continued as he stepped next to her. "Katrina, my love, it's for the best."

Dropping the knife, she glared at him. "It's best for you to leave me? Us? I'm going to give birth to your child. You wanted to be here for that."

"The longer I stay here, the harder it will become to leave. Katrina, we're having an affair. In the past, I've looked at others who've done that with contempt."

"We're not like others, Ichabod. If we'd had any choice at all, we wouldn't be having an affair. We'd be married."

"I know. My love-"

"Someone's coming," she said abruptly moving away from him and turning back to her vegetables. Not a moment later, Cassie stepped though the door.

"Mama."

She inhaled a deep breath and turned to their daughter with a clearly forced smile. "Cassie, what is it, sweetheart?"

Cassie ran to him and reached up toward him. As he lifted her up, she answered, "The Reverend's here to see you."

Sighing, Katrina tiredly wiped her hands and tossed the cloth to the counter. "Thank you, Cassie."

He watched her go with slight trepidation.

"What happened to the carrots?"

Glancing from the destroyed carrots to his daughter, he shrugged. "Your mother got a little carried away."

"Good, I hate nasty carrots," she said with a scrunched nose.

With a chuckle, he tightened his hold on her and then made his way out to join the others.

Alfred smiled broadly when he saw him. "Ichabod, wonderful. You're here as well."

"Alfred," he replied with a nod.

Alfred cast a glance to Cassie before looking back at Katrina, who sighed. "Cassie, why don't you go find your brother and see what he's doing."

His daughter gave a frown. "He's in the barn."

Katrina stepped forward and reached for Cassie before lowering her to the ground. "I still want you to go."

With a huff, Cassie ran out the front door.

"The Four have sent word," Alfred said as soon as Cassie had cleared the room. "They have information for us concerning the Hessians. They've asked that we meet them tonight. I've come for your consent, Katrina."

"Of course, Alfred. Did they give any more information?"

"I'm afraid not."

Nodding her head, she spoke as she fidgeted with her hands. "Very well."

"As the Witness, Ichabod should attend as well. The Hessians were most likely looking for him, after all."

"We'll both be in attendance," she answered quickly with an annoyed breath. "Was there anything else, Alfred?"

She was obviously agitated and not even trying to hide it, clearly leaving Alfred confused from the frown that came to his face.

"No, that was all," the man said lowly.

"Good, I'm sure you can see yourself out."

Without another glance, she took to the staircase. As soon as she was out of sight, Alfred turned to him with a curious expression.

"The pregnancy," he offered. "It seems to be having quite the affect on her."

Alfred nodded before giving his farewell, leaving him torn over whether to venture up the stairs after her or give her some space. Considering just how upset she seemed, he decided on the latter and made for the barn to spend what might possibly be his last day with his son and daughter.


	30. Chapter 30

They barely spoke the rest of the day which had him completely on edge as he followed her through the many tunnels in order to meet with her coven. Her mood topped with the newest secret he was keeping was nearly about to drive him mad. This newest secret was one he'd obtained when he'd ventured to the barn earlier only to stumble upon a red faced little boy and a taunting little girl.

_"It's mine, Cassie!" William shouted, stomping his foot in frustration as Cassie stood on the top of a carriage teasingly holding William's pistol out over his head. "Give it back to me!"_

_Cassie laughed only infuriating William all the more. Then, without warning, a bright glow left William's hand and his gun was flying toward him, landing neatly in his palm. With a triumphant smile, he looked up at Cassie, who groaned in return. "I'm telling, mama. You know you're not supposed to use magic without her."_

_William quickly shook his head. "Then, I'll tell on you for teasing me. Mama will be mad at you, not me."_

_So taken aback at what he'd just witnessed, Ichabod stumbled back slightly, knocking a pail over in the process. The racket brought two sets of blue eyes swiveling toward him that widened at his presence. For a few heartbeats, all was quiet in the old barn as no one moved or spoke. Then, the silence ended as a small squeak left Cassie, who looked as though she were about to start crying._

_Feeling his feet moving forward, he quickly shook his head. "It's alright."_

_Cassie twisted her hands together in what seemed to be a painful way as William pushed himself against one of the gates of the horse stalls, clearly trying to disappear._

_"You can't tell," she whimpered. "We'll get in trouble."_

_His daughter's tears had arrived just as he came to stand next to the carriage. Lifting his hands up, he attempted to coax her into his arms, but she glanced at them doubtfully. "It's alright, Cassie," he spoke softly. "I promise."_

_At last, she fell against him, her small body wrapping around his as she sobbed. "Mama will be so mad. Please don't tell."_

_Eyes falling closed for a moment, he sighed as he rubbed soothing circles over his daughter's back. "It's alright."_

_Turning to William, he stepped forward and knelt down before his trembling son who was pressed so firmly into the gate that Ichabod was surprised he hadn't melded with it completely. With Cassie still clinging to him, he opened his free arm for William who rushed at him, throwing himself into the hug. After a moment of simply holding them, he pulled back, his gaze darting between their matching blue eyes. "I swear to you, no one will ever hear it from me."_

_"Not even mama?" asked William lowly, his small pistol clutched closely to his chest._

_Reaching up to swipe his thumb across William's cheek, ridding him of his silent tears, he nodded. "Even your mother. I promise."_

_With that assurance, William returned to their hug, his small arms wrapping around his neck._

It had taken him forever to convince Cassie that he wouldn't reveal their magic, but he'd finally soothed her with the assurance that it would be their little secret.

As he continued following Katrina, it struck him how paranoid they'd likely grow to be. Katrina seemed to overprotect them in a severe way and he understood why she kept them so apart from society, but it still worried him. Everyone, even witches, needed socialization and it seemed the only people they ever spent any great amount of time around were the ones living in the von Brunt residence.

When he noticed her wince, he broke their silence as he gently reached for her arm. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Ichabod."

The tone of her voice silenced him as she seemed in no mood to be trifled with. Though, he wasn't sure if her mood was more so due to his news or the baby. Either way, he knew to be quiet and not tempt her to turn on him with her anger.

As fate would have it, the Four did have valuable information. Apparently, the Hessians had heard that the First Witness was traveling with General Washington and had been attempting to discern how to smoke him out. Thankfully, they were still in the dark as to his identity.

"We destroyed them."

Katrina, who had remained silent throughout most of their report, spoke, "Are you certain? The Witness is too valuable to assume. He'll be returning to camp and he cannot do so if there is still a threat present."

The slight intimidation he felt by this side of Katrina never failed to surprise him. She didn't seem to have much problem acting as if she didn't care for him, her authority seeping into him and all those around her, leaving her seemingly cold and calculating. Her questioning wasn't lost on him, though. It was clear to him that she was torn between wanting to be sure of his safety and attempting to delay him further.

"We are certain," one assured with an air of confidence. "We captured and questioned one. He was difficult to break, but not impossible."

"You broke him?" Katrina looked at each of them through shaded eyes. "Hessians do not break."

"This one did," answered another of the Four, however, slightly less confident.

"Or perhaps," Katrina began with a dramatic wave of her hand. "He led you to believe he was broken, telling you what he wanted you to think." She took a step forward, her glare meeting each of them. "Did you consider that, or is it your goal to see the world destroyed by getting the First Witness killed?"

He shuddered slightly at the tone of her voice as it rose more with every word she spoke. With a sigh, he made a mental note not to attempt conversation about his departure again this day.

The Four looked doubtfully amongst themselves as Katrina took yet another step forward. "I expect you to know better. To _be_ better. I trusted you with this task because I was unable to see it through myself, but it would seem that if I want any peace, then I must do everything on my own."

The meeting ended abruptly, then, with Katrina losing her patience and departing without another word.

As he quickly made to follow her back into town, he considered the possibility that maybe it wasn't safe for him to return. Lately, all he'd been concerned with was Katrina and his children. After the meeting, however, he realized just how much he'd fallen. They were at war, in more than one way. The fight for the world's very existence was waging and he'd put it aside to fulfill his own selfish desires. He knew Katrina would feel the same were she not so out of sorts in her emotions. He had discovered that while with child, Katrina could be quite unreasonable and even more hot tempered than usual.

* * *

"You shouldn't be travelling in your condition."

"The subject is no longer up for debate," she sighed, placing another item in her bag. "Since you refuse to wait, I have no choice but to accompany you. Hessians are not to be trifled with, Ichabod."

Letting out a groan, he slumped down to the bed beside her and answered, "Which is exactly why you shouldn't be going. Katrina," he whispered, reaching out a hand to touch their baby. "You're pregnant. Do you wish to endanger our child?"

Her eyes cut to him. "No more than I wish to see you endangered. I'll be fine. The baby's not due for another four months."

"Katrina-"

"Stop, Ichabod," she cut in hotly, holding up a hand. "It's not as if I'm gallivanting across the colonies. The encampment is only a day's walk away."

"But-"

"Ready to go?" came a voice from the door, where Thomas was standing, packed and ready.

He sighed as Katrina lifted her bag with a defiant look at him. "Yes, we're ready."

As she walked toward the door, he released a heavy breath before following, dragging his feet as his own act of defiance.

When he made it downstairs, Katrina was giving some last minute instructions to the housemaid about her usual excuses to Abraham for her absence. Visiting an ill friend a town over was her most used one it seemed as that was the one she was giving at the moment. Apparently, he and Thomas were her escorts as her friend was on their way back to camp.

Not wishing to be a part of anymore lies than he already was, he glanced to the porch where he found Thomas saying his goodbyes to William and Cassie, who were smiling at whatever he was telling them. He, on the other hand, had been delaying his farewell knowing that he was about to leave his children and most likely not see them again anytime soon, if ever.

With a defeated sigh, he stepped out onto the porch and knelt before them. "Thank you for allowing me to stay in your home. I had a wonderful time."

Cassie leapt forward to hug him, her small arms wrapping around his neck. "Will you come back to visit us again?"

Hugging his daughter tightly to himself, he closed his eyes, absorbing as much of her warmth as possible. "I truly hope so, Cassie."

When she pulled back, she gave him a bright smile before glancing at her mother, who was still speaking with the housemaid, and whispering, "You'll still keep our secret?"

Nodding, he pushed his daughter's hair behind her ear. "Always."

Turning his gaze to William, he found the boy lingering on the porch steps, a small frown on his face as he kicked at the post. "I'm sorry to have to leave you, William."

The boy simply shrugged, but made no move beyond that. With William's lack of eye contact, he felt himself break a little on the inside as he contemplate what to do next.

He was saved, however, as Katrina made her way onto the porch and reached for Cassie, who took to hugging her. "You're going to be good and look after your brother, aren't you?"

Cassie nodded her head quickly, her blue eyes big with seriousness. "Yes, mama, I will. I promise."

"That's good."

Turning to William, Katrina held out her arms and he quickly ran into her, burying his face in her neck. "My sweet boy." Placing a kiss to his hair, she whispered, "I'll only be gone a couple of days. Alright?"

Nodding his head, he stepped back to stand next to his sister and Katrina laid a hand to both of their faces before joining him on the steps. With a last look to them, he forced himself to turn and make his way down the stairs. Thomas was patiently waiting at the gate for them.

Before he could reach him, however, he heard quick footsteps and turned just in time to catch William as he flew at him, his small body hitting his firmly. Gathering his son in his arms, he pulled him close as he knelt to hold him and barely heard the small whisper, "Don't go."

At the sound of his son's low plea, his heart broke. They'd grown so close over the last few weeks, but he hadn't imagined the boy had taken to him this much, despite what Katrina had previously said. Glancing up at her, he found himself at a loss for words, something that was a very foreign concept to him. She was no help, though, as she looked just as lost as he. Face knit in concern, she knelt down and attempted to pull William to her, but his son only tightened his hold on him.

"William, sweetheart-"

"No, mama," William said defiantly.

Her eyes darted to his, a helpless expression on her face.

With a deep breath, he laid his hand to the back of William's head and held him close. "William, if it is in my power, I swear... I _will_ come back."

At last, the boy loosened his tight grip and allowed Ichabod to pull him back just far enough to look him in the eye. "I love you, William."

Wiping the tears from his small cheeks, he looked to Katrina, needing her to take their son before he fell completely apart.

"William, come here, sweetheart."

As William sorrowfully turned into his mother's arms, she lifted him up and carried him back to the porch where Cassie waited. Tearing his eyes from them, he turned to begin walking away and with every step he felt himself doing everything he could to push his emotions down.

"They're your children, too, aren't they?" Thomas asked quietly.

Not looking at Thomas, he stopped to wait for Katrina. "Yes. They're mine."


	31. Chapter 31

They were joined by Alfred as they passed the church. His displeasure over Katrina taking on this task was quite evident in the way he held himself all stiff in front of them as he led the way. The man had attempted to have her agree to him being the sole escort for this journey, but she'd flat refused, daring him to utter another word on the topic. So far, their journey had been well travelled and they were making good time, despite both his and Thomas's pleas for Katrina to take breaks and rest.

"I'm perfectly fine," she bit out. "Will you two stop please treating me as though I were helpless?"

Thomas quirked his eyebrows. "She did say 'please'. That's quite the rarity."

He rolled his eyes before chancing a glance at Alfred, who was still leading their small group. Seeing that the Reverend's back was to them, he stepped closer to her and took her hand. "I only want you to be careful," he whispered. "I couldn't bear it if anything were to happen to you, Katrina."

"Nothing is going to happen to me," she answered with a glance up at him. "Ichabod, I know my body and how far I can push it. I've done this before in case you've forgotten."

With a sigh, he placed his eyes back on the Reverend's back, his thoughts returning to the town he'd left behind. "I miss them already."

She threaded their fingers together and brought them to her mouth, placing a tender kiss to the back of his hand before releasing it and calling out to Alfred. "I think Ichabod needs a break, Alfred. He seems a bit winded."

Chuckling, he turned to her as she gave him a small smile and eased herself down against a tree. "Thank you," he said, grateful she'd finally relented to resting. He turned to Thomas. "There's a stream nearby. I'll go and fetch us some water."

He made his way down to the stream and dipped his flask into it. As he waited for it to fill, he noticed movement across the stream, causing him to tense. Gaze darting up, he released a chuckle as he found it to only be a small doe partaking of the fresh water. With a sigh, he returned to his task just as he heard a branch snap behind him. Turning to see if it was Thomas come to fetch him, he was met with a sting to his head, then all went dark.

* * *

The sounds of a fire crackling brought him back into consciousness. Upon opening his eyes, his gaze rested on the ceiling of a cave, the fire light casting dark shadows over its formation. Blinking rapidly in an attempt at sorting out how he had gotten here, he sat up and found his hands bound tightly in front of him. The sharp pain that shot across the back of his head as he did so brought the memory of a branch snapping flashing across the forefront of his mind.

"Finally awake I see."

Startled at the voice, he quickly spun around to find a dark haired woman leaning against the cave wall, most of her features obscured by the shadows dancing in the cave. "Who are you?"

"My name is Serilda," she said, stepping more into the light. "And you are Ichabod Crane, the First Witness."

He tensed at her knowledge, taking in her dark eyes. "Am I to gather that's why I'm here? You've abducted me to hand over to the enemy."

She chuckled as she circled him. "Oh, I'm sure I could garner quite the reward for your head, but I have no intention of doing that. I have much bigger plans for you."

It was the way she said it, all low and threatening, that made his body fill with dread. "And what are those plans?"

She gave a slight smile as she slid a hand along his cheek, prompting him to lean away from her. "You'll find out soon enough, dear Ichabod. Just as soon as our special guest arrives."

She ended their conversation there and he suddenly found himself roughly gagged.

It felt like hours had passed of them just sitting there when he noticed her attention perk up. Standing, she made her way over to him, the flames of the small fire dancing over her slender form. "It is time. Get up."

With that command, she jerked him to his feet with a force he was surprised she possessed. As her hand gripped his arm, movement at the entrance of the cave caught his attention and when he saw who it was, his heart skipped a beat.

Katrina.

"I see you received my message," Serilda said almost pridefully.

Katrina's eyes glanced over him, seemingly checking for injury, but otherwise unconcerned, which caused him to frown. "You mean the Hessians that attacked us? Yes, I received it. Sorry, they couldn't join us. They're currently roasting back in the forest."

Serilda stepped closer to him as Alfred and Thomas entered the cave. Katrina didn't even glance at them, her gaze focused completely on Serilda. "What I don't understand is why you apparently seem to be waiting here for me. Did you require an audience that desperately?"

Serilda slid her hand up his arm to his neck as she pressed herself intimately against him. "I didn't want you to miss your beloved's death."

He saw Katrina tense for half a second before an amused smile crept over her face. "My beloved? Don't be ridiculous. He's the Witness as you already know. He's simply my charge."

Serilda chuckled, her other hand softly rubbing circles on his chest. "Which is what makes the child you carry an abomination in the eyes of your coven."

Eyes widening, he jerked beneath the woman's hands. How could she know? He noticed Alfred throw Katrina a shocked glance as though completely scandalized. Katrina, however, remained unaffected as she continued to smile. "You're obviously out for something. Why don't you just tell us what it is and end the theatrics?"

Serilda tightened her hold on him, her fingers digging into the side of his neck, her nails breaking skin. "I'm going to take everything you love and destroy it."

He felt his heart pick up pace.

"You have a personal vendetta against me," Katrina clearly deciphered. "Tell me, what is it that I did to earn such revenge from you? You've obviously been planning this for quite some time."

Serilda slid her free hand that wasn't digging into him to his face, the feel of his own blood smearing against him sending a shiver through him. "I was in love once. Though, he wasn't as handsome as your lover here."

"He's not my lover," Katrina said too calmly for his own comfort. "He's nothing to me but a means to an end."

Serilda's hand slid down his chest again as she turned to smile at Katrina. "Oh, but he is. All those late night visits to the trees behind the house you share with your husband. The two of you are quite adventurous, aren't you? I must say, I found myself thoroughly enthralled watching the two of you tear at each other with such passion."

His eyes met Katrina's over the flames, but she only spared him half a glance before placing her gaze back on the woman who had him firmly in her grasp.

"My love and I were similar," Serilda continued. "Until he was taken from me in an instant."

"I take it I was the cause," Katrina offered in an almost bored manner.

Serilda tightened her grip on his throat. "You murdered him!"

"I've never murdered anyone," Katrina answered matter of factly. "But if I killed him, he met a just end."

"You had no right!" Serilda bit out. "James didn't deserve to die!"

He saw recognition flash across Katrina's face. "James Taylor?"

"So you remember."

Katrina pointed a finger at the entrance of the cave, a sudden anger flickering across her features. "He murdered three innocent children. His fate was just."

Serilda screamed, her fingers digging further into his flesh. "Lies! He didn't do that!"

"He did," Katrina assured, with a nod. "And he was preparing to repeat his despicable act again when I found him."

"No," Serilda protested vehemently. "James was a good man and you murdered him, the only person I ever loved, who accepted me. Now, I'm going to take everything you love. I'm going to make you watch your lover die, then I'm going to kill you." Serilda threw Katrina a threatening glare. "And don't worry, Katrina," she said almost haughtily. "I'll be sure to circle back around to your precious William and Cassie. Before I strangle the life from them, I'll reveal to them just what a whore their mother was and how they're nothing more than the illegitimate bastards of Ichabod Crane."

With that threat, he suddenly found he couldn't breathe. As he felt himself collapsing to the ground, he saw Katrina move, but could not bring himself to do the same. His lungs felt as though they were closed off and his vision was blurring to the point that he could no longer make anything out.

"Ichabod!" It was Thomas whose hands were now on him. "What's wrong? Tell me what to do."

Try as he may, he couldn't speak. The sounds of rocks crumbling filled his ears and then he felt them crash against his back.

"Thomas, pull him out," came Alfred's shout. "I have Katrina."

Why couldn't Katrina help herself?

Feeling hands grasp him, his body was lifted and he blacked out.


	32. Chapter 32

_"What will we name it?"_

_"Smelly beast," he offered with an upturned nose at the dirty creature she was clutching to her chest._

_Katrina's eyes narrowed. "He's not a beast, he's a kitten, and you'd smell too if you lived in an alley."_

_He rolled his eyes, exasperation over having this conversation exuding from him. "Well, fine. You pick something."_

_"Why do I have to pick?" she asked. "You're supposed to be the smart one. Besides, he's ours. We have to name him together."_

_She said it so matter of factly that he wasn't sure he could dispute her. "Fine," he groaned out. "We'll pick something together."_

_"How about..." Her answer never came._

_"Well?"_

_She shot him a glare, her green eyes daring him._

_"I'm thinking."_

_Sighing, he plopped to the ground._

_This could take a while._

"Ichabod, my love."

Katrina.

She was touching him. Struggling to open his eyes, he cracked them open and found her leaning over him. It was daylight again and as he took in his surroundings, he discovered he was in a tent. Katrina must have noticed his confusion because her hand laid over his cheek. "We're at camp. You've been out for four days. I kept you under so you would have time to properly recover."

He nodded, his frown disappearing to be replaced by a smile as his gaze darted over her face. "I was dreaming about you."

Her eyes softened as her fingers stroked through his hair. "Were you?"

With a nod, he reached up to push her hair behind her ear. "Do you remember that cat we found? In the alley behind the bakery?"

A slight smile filled her features. "Ah, yes, Mr. Crane. He was very rude."

"We said if my father were a cat, that would be him. No amount of nurturing ever made him nice." He frowned in thought. "I wonder what happened to him?"

"I'm not sure..." she whispered lowly, her eyes falling to his chest.

Her tone caught his attention. There was something in it, something he couldn't decipher. Attempting to sit up, he winced as he found his body more sore than he could ever recollect it being before. When he glanced down, he noticed black and yellow bruises all along his arms and chest. He winced again as he touched a rather nasty one on his abdomen.

Katrina's hand covered his. "They're from when the cave collapsed."

Of course, the cave. Jerking his eyes back to hers, he asked, "Thomas?"

She gave a small smile. "He's fine, just bruised up and giving the nurses a fit. He'll recover, as will Alfred."

Taking in a bruise above her eyes, he asked, "And Serilda?"

A flash of something he couldn't place crossed over her features. "She escaped, but I will find her and deal with her. She'll never know freedom again when I'm finished with her."

Her features were dark. Darker than he'd ever seen them. Throwing his legs over the cot, he let them hang as he pulled her between them. "My love, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, her eyes clearly avoiding his. "She placed a spell on you. You nearly died from lack of air. I couldn't get to you. I tried-" Her voice broke off.

His hands moved to cup her face. "It's alright, my love. I'm fine. She failed."

Eyes filled with tears, she shook her head. "No, she didn't."

He was beyond confused as he took in her grief stricken features. "What do you mean? We're all safe."

Her eyes left his. "Not all of us."

"Katrina-"

His hands had fallen to her waist to pull her closer when a thought struck him. Allowing his eyes to fall to her belly, he felt her tense.

"I'm so sorry, my love," she choked out. "She caught me off guard when you began to strangle. I lost my concentration and attempted to reach you, but that's when she attacked me. I tried-"

Her words broke off again as a sob made its way through her as she collapsed against him. Torn between asking her more questions and feeling the overwhelming need to comfort her, he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close. As she uncontrollably shook and wept against him, reality began to sink in.

Their baby was gone.

* * *

It wasn't long before they were called to the General's tent. In their journey from one tent to the other, he found it almost impossible to walk without wincing. His body felt as though it were on fire. Katrina had healed all the serious cuts, but informed it would be unwise to heal him any further. Too many people had seen him when he was brought in a few days prior. As they entered through the flaps, he found the General, as well as Thomas and Alfred standing around a table of maps.

"Captain Crane," Washington greeted. "I'm glad to see you've awoken."

Wincing as he leaned against the table, he nodded. "Thank you, General."

"I would have visited you, but Katrina hasn't allowed anyone in to see you since you were brought in. She's had the two of you holed up in that tent for days."

Glancing at her, he found she wouldn't meet his eyes. "She's very protective. I am, after all, everyone's only hope."

He hadn't meant for it to come out as sarcastically as it did, but he was simply so tired of his duty to them, to their rules and idle wishes. He'd barely had time to mourn his unborn child and yet here he was.

"Yes, well, it's time to discuss the matter of what to do now."

Looking to Alfred, who looked more than slightly disgruntled, he frowned. "About what?"

The man stared at him incredulously. "Don't feign ignorance with me." He threw both of his hands toward them. "The two of you have betrayed us all. Do you have any idea what you've done? What will now happen?"

Once again, he looked to Katrina, but her eyes were firmly planted on the table.

"What Katrina and I do is our business," he bit out.

"Not when it affects us all," Alfred answered sternly. "You've jeopardized everything."

He felt his anger growing. "All we've done is love each other. You have no right to tell us how to feel."

"You've fathered children with her!" the Reverend exclaimed. " _Two_ children! The Witness' mission is to prevent the apocalypse. Her mission is to protect you. Now, you've caused both of you to become vulnerable. I warned you, _both_ of you, where this path would lead."

"Our love does not make us vulnerable," he nearly shouted.

Alfred looked at him as though he were insane. "What happened in that cave was a direct result of your love."

"Serilda was after Katrina for revenge. That had nothing to do with our love."

Alfred's hand flew at him again. "Your life was put in jeopardy because Katrina cared for you too much. Serilda preyed upon that and you were nearly killed. Do you have any idea how that would have affected the world? What sort of darkness that could have led to?" The man scoffed. "No, of course, you didn't think of that because it seems the only thing the two of you think about is bedding each other."

His patience was officially gone. "So I'm not to have anything for myself because I'm the Witness!? I'm to hole myself in a corner somewhere until the almighty Sisterhood of the Radiant Heart calls upon me to act for them?"

"Of course not. They are plenty of women out there you could have. Nearly all the women of Sleepy Hollow fall all over themselves for you, but of course you're going to take the one woman you cannot have."

He shook his head in disgust. "You act as though we intended for this to happen. Our love has been in place since we were children, long before any of this destiny business became known."

"You should have used reason," Alfred scolded.

About to scream at the man again, Katrina's voice broke through his red haze. "He's right, Ichabod." Turning to her with wide eyes, he paused. She still wasn't looking at him. "What we did was wrong. We were selfish."

"Katrina-"

"No," she whispered. "We knew our actions could have consequences and yet we acted in a way that suggested we didn't care. We allowed our love to rule us. My marriage to Abraham was meant to prevent what we did from ever happening again, but it was already too late. The consequences of our mistake were already in place before I ever even said my vows to him. Vows that we have broken over and over."

He flinched at her words. "Are you saying that William and Cassie are a mistake? That the child we just lost was a mistake?"

Her eyes finally met his and he saw the sorrow that consumed them, sorrow that made him want to wrap his arms around her. "Of course not. I love our children more than anything. I would do anything for them, just as I would for you." Her eyes darted to Alfred uncertainly. "But that's the problem. I have too much power to be emotionally entangled in such a way. Power that could hurt many people if I make the wrong decision."

"But you haven't," he assured. "You've never done anything like that."

"Not yet," she whispered. "But who's to say tomorrow I won't be faced with a choice between you and the greater good?" She turned to him fully, tears filling her eyes. "I'll choose you, Ichabod. I'll choose you every time. When you're involved, it's as if my brain shuts off and all I can think about is you. It's dangerous."

He couldn't breathe. The combination of his injuries and the fresh knowledge that his unborn child was dead were wreaking havoc on him. Bringing a hand to his head, he closed his eyes. "What are you saying?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "But we cannot continue as we have."

Catching her eyes, he found her to look completely lost, lost and exhausted. With a sigh, he tore his eyes from her and said, "I'm finished with this conversation."

Alfred stepped forward. "This conversation is not finished. We-"

"I am not discussing this anymore!" he shouted, turning on the man threateningly. "My child is dead and my body feels as though it is falling apart. I am returning to my tent."

With that, he turned from them all and stormed through the flaps of the tent.

* * *

Hours passed until daylight had long departed and night had set in. He'd spent his time attempting to fall asleep to chase away the nightmare he was currently in, but try as he may to conjure it, sleep evaded him. About an hour after he'd retired to his tent, the flap had parted and Katrina had stepped through. He recalled how defeated she had looked, her entire body looking weary as she stared at him from the opening. Then, she'd finally moved, climbing onto the small cot and burrowing into his side. More tears had come as she clung to him, tears from both of them, until she'd fallen asleep in his arms as he whispered his love to her over and over. He, however, had not slept. Fingers running through her long red hair, he'd lain still, considering all the things he should have done differently. His Katrina was suffering because he hadn't been strong enough to save their child.

"I'm returning to Sleepy Hollow at first light," she said, pulling him from his self-torture.

Opening his eyes, he frowned at the ceiling of the tent. "You can't. It's too soon for you to be traveling after..."

It didn't need to be said again.

"The Hessian's have been dealt with," she whispered into his neck. "My mission is complete and now it's time for me to return home."

Her words sounded much cooler than they'd been earlier, almost as if she were talking to one of her coven members rather than her love. Frowning, he tried to catch her eyes as a sense of dread began to fill him, but she was deftly avoiding them, prompting him to turn on his side to fully face her.

"Katrina?" When she gave no answer, he prodded, "Look at me."

"We can't see each other anymore," she whispered, her jaw locked.

Heart skipping a beat, he asked, "Until when?"

She wouldn't answer so he lifted a hand to stroke her cheek. "Look at me." Ever so slowly, her green pools met his and then he knew. "No."

"Ichabod," she began, but he tightened his hold on her.

"You agreed to never see me again?"

"It's for the best," she whispered. "For everyone."

"Everyone but us," he said desperately. "Katrina don't do this."

"I'm married," she said with a measure of finality that he refused to acknowledge.

"I'm the one that bothered, not you. You hate him. He hurts you, Katrina."

She tried to pull from him, but he wouldn't allow it. "Ichabod-"

"No," he denied, pulling her to him tightly and crushing his mouth to hers. A gasp fell from her as her hands pushed at him, but he refused to release her. Deepening the kiss, he slid his hands to her neck as he pressed his body completely into hers.

"Ichabod-"

Silencing her, he slid his mouth back over hers, needing to consume her, to show her how much they needed each other. That is, until he felt wetness on his face, causing him to pull back to find her crying. "Katrina..."

"I love you, Ichabod," she sobbed. "I love you more than anything. Always."

Laying his forehead to hers, he pleaded. "Don't do this. I need you. You're supposed to protect me."

"I will. I'll always protect you," she assured with a hand to his cheek. "You just won't see me."

"I won't touch you ever again. I promise, but please don't ask me to do this."

"We've already shown we can't do that," she reminded.

"And what of William and Cassie?" he asked, catching her eyes again. "Am I to be forbidden from seeing them ever again as well? They're just as much mine as they are yours, Katrina. How can you take what little of them I have? You said what happened between us was my decision. You promised me that."

"I'm so sorry, my love. I wish there were another way. Please believe that."

His head fell to her shoulder as he buried himself in her neck. "This isn't right."

Her hand came up to rest in his hair. "We were blessed with a time together that we were never meant to have, but now it has passed and we must accept that."

He shook his head. "You're letting your grief speak for you. You can't really be allowing this. You're not in your right mind and you've let Alfred manipulate you."

"Perhaps," she whispered softly. "But it is what it is, my love." She slid her hand to his face, drawing his gaze to hers. "I will always be yours, no matter where I am, no matter how much time passes... _nothing_ will ever change that."

Desperately clinging to the back of her dress, he shook his head. "It's not enough."

She gave a sorrowful nod. "I know."

He leaned his forehead to hers again. "This won't be the last time we're together. You know that as well as I."

"It has to be," she whispered. "Lives depend upon it."

"I don't care," he muttered, completely frustrated.

A genuine smile graced her face. "You wouldn't be the man I love if that were true."

"Katrina-"

"Shh," she breathed, placing a finger to his lips. "Can we please just be together? We don't have long left and I don't want to spend it angry. Please."

It was on the tip of his tongue to protest when she burrowed into his chest. "We've lost so much already," she whispered as a slight warmth began to unfurl within him. It felt familiar, but he suddenly found himself too tired to wonder at it. His eyes became heavy, despite his trying to keep them open. "Don't let this be stolen from us as well. Sleep, my love."

The last thing he recalled were her arms sliding around him as she pressed close.


	33. Chapter 33

_1781 (a year and a half later)_

"Crane, are you mad?"

Giving Thomas the most innocent look he could muster, he questioned, "What?"

"You nearly killed me!" his friend exclaimed.

"It didn't even come close."

As Thomas plopped down beside him, he accepted the knife he'd been throwing at a nearby tree. "You're getting better at that."

"It would seem so." Glancing at Thomas, he grinned. "Getting anxious over our visit into town?"

"Only slightly," Thomas muttered, fiddling with a stick in the dirt.

"You'd think after all these years, you'd be less nervous around young ladies."

Thomas threw him a withering look. "Don't act as though they don't make you nervous as well."

With a chuckle, he stood and held out a hand to his young friend. "Let's go."

* * *

Entering the small town, he spotted his destination, all lit up with the lights from the home. The General was attending a party in town that would have many an influential man and he was hoping to garner more support for the cause. His superior had been meant to attend to aid in that cause, but had fallen ill earlier in the day and had insisted that he attend in his stead. Thomas had begged, and after allowing the boy to worry a bit, he had finally relented and allowed him to accompany him. It had been months since either of them had been in the presence of anyone other than soldiers.

Upon arriving, Thomas gave him a pat on the back before he excused himself at the first pretty girl that entered his line of vision, completely leaving him to find his way around. It didn't take him long, however, as he found quite a few people he knew and nearly immediately began arguing politics and the need for this or that. He'd been standing in the presence of one particularly cantankerous elderly man for quite some time as he did his best to get him to see reason. That is, until a hand at his arm pulled his attention from nearly choking the man then and there. Finding Thomas as the intruder upon his conversation, he turned. "Thomas, what is it?"

"I'm kind of tired," he muttered, glancing around. "Why don't we head back?"

Frowning at the boy, he questioned, "What are you talking about? We only just arrived. Did some girl already turn you down?"

The boy looked nervous, as his eyes darted about the room. "Yes, broke my heart. I need someone to talk me out of my heartache. Come on, Crane."

"Thomas, don't be ridiculous," he answered. "What's the matter with you? Move onto another as usual."

Thomas's eyes became transfixed on something behind him, prompting him to turn to see what it was, but found his arm caught to hold him still before he could. "I really need your help, Crane."

As he stared at the boy, who looked strangely desperate, he relented, "Very well."

"Great," Thomas exclaimed, pulling at his arm. "Let's go."

Rolling his eyes, he began to follow Thomas when he remembered one last thing to tell the man he'd been speaking with. Turning, he opened his mouth to speak when he saw her not twenty feet away.

Red hair pulled up. Green eyes fixed on the floor intently. Hands held before her. An air of complete and utter boredom seemed to be surrounding her.

Firmly rooted to the spot, he found he couldn't take his eyes from her. It'd been well over a year since he'd last seen her and, yet, there she was standing in the presence of Abraham, who was speaking with the General and Reverend. Abraham was carrying on as Katrina shifted her gaze about the room as if looking for something more interesting to hold her attention. When a woman touched Katrina's arm, she turned with a smile to address her, but that's when her eyes met his over the woman's shoulder, her smile immediately fading.

The ability to breathe left him as their eyes caught.

"Crane, I'm sorry," came Thomas' voice. "I'd hoped you wouldn't see her. Let's just go."

Aimlessly nodding, he tore his eyes from hers and allowed Thomas to pull his arm until he was walking behind his friend. He honestly felt as though he were in a daze. The thought of seeing Katrina here tonight had never crossed his mind. At least, in the past, he'd always had some form of idea about when he'd next see her, but tonight... "No," he said suddenly, coming to a stop just outside the main door. "I'm not leaving." Turning on his heel, he headed back inside.

"Crane!"

Standing at the door to the house, he found her still conversing with the three men, though looking more uncomfortable than before as her hands were now twisting each other in what looked to be a painful way. She looked like she was ready to flee the room altogether.

"Crane, you can't talk to her."

"I'll talk to whomever I please, Thomas," he bit out roughly. "She and I are long overdue a conversation about the last time we saw each other."

"Not if you want William and Cassie to live."

Taken aback by Thomas's words, he turned to face him. "What are you talking about?"

Thomas took a deep breath before nodding to Katrina. "She made a deal with the Reverend. She'd stay away from you and he wouldn't inform the coven that you were their father."

Shocked, he glanced back towards the four, who were still oblivious to his presence as they smiled and laughed over some likely trivial thing.

"She was protecting them and made me swear not to tell you." Thomas laid his hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ichabod, but we need to leave before the Reverend sees us. He won't be pleased."

He wanted to move, but he found he couldn't as a memory struck him. _"Lives depend upon it."_

He'd thought she meant the lives of the world, but that hadn't been what she'd meant at all. She was referring to their children. Without truly thinking of it, he found his feet weren't moving toward the door, but toward the four people he was closest to.

The General, who imparted so many important things to him, but chose to keep his family from him.

Alfred, who'd been his constant shadow for the last eight years. Protecting him. Though they'd barely spoken since Katrina's departure from him, he was still cordial to the man, but this...

Abraham. His friend. Her husband. A man who could care less about her, but was still allowed to make love to her, raise his children, all without a coven breathing down his neck and the fate of the world on his shoulders.

And Katrina...There weren't enough words. The way she'd left him, without a word.

He was positively livid by the time he reached them and desperately in need of a place to put his rage. He found it as his fist connected with the Reverend's face causing the man to hit the floor with a thud. He was practically seeing red as the General and Thomas grabbed his arms to keep him from continuing in his assault.

"Ichabod! What is the meaning of this!?"

Answering Abraham's question without taking his gaze from the old man who was staring wide eyed at him from the floor, he jerked his arms free. "He knows."

Thomas pulled at him roughly. "Come on, Crane. Let's just go."

Turning to walk away, he met her shocked gaze for a moment. "Find someone else. I don't want to see him again."

He refused to have that man be the one to protect him a moment longer. Walking out of the house, he didn't stop this time until he stomped his way up to his room, slamming the door behind him. As he collapsed onto his bed, he flung his coat across the room and threw himself back. He'd always thought it so odd how quickly she'd changed her mind about them, especially after that night he'd fallen apart in her arms back in the von Brunt home. Then, the idea that she would leave him to mourn alone in the wake of their child's death had completely befuddled him. It was clear she'd been just as broken as he, however, the morning after she'd made her decision, he'd awoken alone with only a note of her sorrow and undying love to greet him. It had struck him then that she'd used her magic to put him to sleep just as she did in those times so long ago when he'd been injured. She'd taken the coward's exit and not given him a proper goodbye. With a huff, he rolled over to face the wall.

* * *

The following morning was woefully unwelcome. The bright sun only furthered his already sour mood with its brightness as his mood was nothing but dark and stormy.

Thomas met him at the bottom steps of the inn, looking entirely too cheerful. "So, what are we having for breakfast? That is, if anyone will feed us. You did hit a Reverend last night. People tend to look poorly on those sorts of things."

"Thomas, I'm not in the mood," he bit out.

"Yeah, well- oh, perfect."

Glancing to see what had caught Thomas' attention, he found Abraham approaching them from the side.

"Ichabod," he greeted with a slight nod.

"Abraham."

He looked more proud than usual, which caught Ichabod off guard. Abraham had always held a certain facade while in his presence. Today, however, he seemed to be different. "I spoke with the General this morning and I'm to accompany you in your delivering of the maps to the camp."

He wasn't aware that he needed help in that task. "That's not necessary, Abraham. Thomas will accompany me."

"Thomas is to remain here." Abraham looked to Thomas as though he were a small insect. "It wasn't my decision, Ichabod. I'll meet you at the inn at noon to begin our journey."

As Abraham turned on his heel, Ichabod cast Thomas a confused glance, but all he did was shrug his shoulders in return. Shaking it from his mind, he continued down the street, returning to his previously foul mood.

* * *

As noon approached, he was readying his belongings and doing his best to put his thoughts in order. It was becoming increasingly difficult to think straight when he considered all he now knew, topped with the knowledge that he was abut to spend the day in Abraham's presence. The very thought had him rolling his eyes. Nearly ready to exit his room, he turned as a knock rapped against his door. Ticking off in his head the number of people it could be, he opened the door and realized he should have known it would be her.

"Mrs. von Brunt," he greeted with a bit of ice in his voice..

She shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. "May I come in?"

Placing his hands on the doorframe, he towered over her. "That depends. If you're here to play some sort of game with me, then no, you're not permitted to come in. However, if you're here to discuss actual information of import, then by all means," he finished, dramatically waving a hand toward the room. "Come on in."

Stepping aside, he kept his eyes on her as her gaze fell to the floor before she walked past him. As he brought a hand to wipe down his face in frustration, he shifted his feet to fully face her. When he caught her darting eyes, he could practically feel the discomfort radiating from her.

"Ichabod, you must permit Alfred to go back with you," she said abruptly, ending their silence.

Allowing his confusion to seep away, he replaced it with resolve. "That's why you're here? To plead that man's case?"

"I shouldn't be here at all. He must go-"

"No," he bit out.

"Ichabod-"

"I said no, Katrina!" he shouted, before closing his eyes tightly and forcing himself to take a deep breath. "I'm done allowing you to set all the rules. If you want someone with me, then find another."

A moment of silence passed between them before she whispered, "It has to be him."

"Or what?" he challenged, meeting her eyes. "He'll tattle on us?"

Her eyes fixed on him in sorrow. "He'll have our children killed, Ichabod."

Tensing, he answered, "He wouldn't go through with it. Alfred is all bark and no bite."

"Are you sure?" she questioned with a step toward him. "Are you willing to bet their lives on that? Because I'm not. I've already lost one child. I won't lose another."

"Bet what, Katrina?" he asked tiredly. "I have no children. I'm just a soldier in this war who you use for your own purposes. I've never been anything more to you than that."

He wasn't trying to hurt her, but he was seemingly doing a fine job of it anyway as her gaze jerked to the window, her eyes blinking rapidly.

"That's not true."

"No, it isn't," he said softly, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I know I promised I wouldn't do that to you anymore, but I just..." After a moment, he sighed, "You always do what you think is best and that's fine, Katrina. But we simply have different opinions of what is best and what isn't. That's something we're both going to have to accept about each other. I allow my heart to lead all over the place while you..."

When she turned back to him, she gazed at him through tear filled eyes. " _All_ of my decisions are led by my heart. You've never understood that because you're too busy thinking about the moment you're in rather than the consequences of the future." She held her hands to her belly as if trying to hold herself together. "There is no one and nothing that I love more than you, save that of our children. I had to choose, Ichabod. What would you have had me do? Leave them to their fate and run off with you?"

"You should not have left me the way you did!" he shouted, stepping toward her. "You used your magic on me so you wouldn't have to face me."

She shook her head. "I used my magic on you because I knew you would not have let me go. You would have kept me there for as long as possible while you attempted to convince me there was another way."

"We were in mourning, Katrina," he replied in frustration. "No decisions about our future should have been made then!"

"Ichabod, please," she whispered. "I don't wish to argue with you."

If he allowed himself to put his hands on her, he felt he might shake her. "You don't wish to argue," he repeated, bringing a hand to his eyes and pressing them tightly. "Then, what else would we do?" A small laugh left her, drawing his gaze to find her shaking her head with a smile. "What are you doing?"

She shrugged as her eyes met his. "Nothing ever changes with us, does it? We love each other. We argue with each other. We leave each other. It's a repetitive cycle. I'm not sure we'd know what to do without it."

With his own smile, he glanced to the window and knew it was time to leave. "I have to go."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Go? Where?"

"I'm delivering important documents for the General back to camp. Didn't Abraham tell you?"

"Abraham? Why would he know?"

"Because he's accompanying me," he explained slowly. "He said the General asked him to."

She shook her head. "I wasn't aware. He didn't mention it this morning at breakfast. He was oddly silent throughout."

"I-"

Another knock sounded at his door. "It's most likely Thomas. He's rather upset that he must remain behind."

Opening the door, he found not Thomas, but Abraham. "Are you ready to- Katrina?" He stepped into the room and looked between the two with narrowed eyes. "What are you doing here?"

She seemed to regain her composure fast. "I was simply checking on Ichabod. Reverend Knapp sent me to see if I might be able to clear the air between he and Ichabod before his departure."

Abraham's expression looked doubtful, prompting him to quickly add, "And I was telling her that if and when I decide to resolve my issues with the Reverend is my business." Turning back to Abraham, he asked, "Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes," he answered, before glancing to Katrina. "You are to stay in town until I return. Is that understood?"

Giving him the falsest smile Ichabod had ever seen grace her face, she exited the room. Following behind them, he sighed. This was going to be a very long day.


	34. Chapter 34

They were halfway to camp and the weariness he'd started this short trip with was steadily growing. He'd attempted to engage Abraham in polite conversation off and on, but the man seemed determined to only give him clipped responses in return. In the silence that had fallen between them, he took the time to consider the obviously foul mood he'd left Katrina in as well as partaking in deep contemplation over how he was going to handle his dear friend, the Reverend, when he next saw him. Usually he would find himself regretting the physical actions he had taken the night before, but no regret seemed to greet him as he thought of all the man had done.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, when Abraham suddenly spoke, "Why have you not yet taken a wife, Ichabod?"

Caught off guard by the question, he looked to Abraham in thought. "I suppose I simply have not had an opportunity yet. Meeting women while fighting a war can be quite difficult."

"Hmm, I suppose I was lucky to have married, Katrina. My wealth helped, of course. Her father was more than willing to be rid of her for the right price."

Placing his gaze firmly back on the path, he rolled his eyes. "Yes. You're very lucky, Abraham. Katrina's a wonderful woman."

"Hardly," Abraham scoffed. "Her abilities as a wife are wanting. She doesn't enjoy parties, or spending time with the other women in town." He lifted a finger in exaggeration. "Don't get me started on her mothering. She coddles the children as if they were still newborn babes. Her inability to allow them from her sight has successfully ruined them." He shook his head in a mildly disgust filled manner. "I can see now that William will never amount to a thing and Cassie," he spat. "That mouth of hers will never gain her a husband. I'll have to pay a man well to take her off my hands one day. Katrina is to be blamed for all of this."

Digging his nails into his palms in an attempt to restrain the urge to throttle the man, he answered, "She's simply different than other women. She's always been unique and wishes to teach her children more than what is custom."

Abraham looked to him with narrowed eyes. "You've always viewed her that way, haven't you, Ichabod?"

Frowning, he met Abraham's gaze, quite uncertain where this questioning was heading. "I don't know what you mean. I admire her ambition, her will to be different. That _is_ why we're fighting this war, is it not? To set ourselves apart, be different than our ancestors? Katrina is simply ahead of her time and I find that extremely admirable."

"Do you admire anything else about her?" Abraham persisted. "Perhaps something that not many others have experienced?"

Stopping in the middle of the path, he turned to face his old friend with an even deeper frown as a sense of dread filled the pit of his belly. "What is it that you're implying, Abraham?"

"I think you know," he sharply bit out as he pulled a letter from his jacket and held it up. "I received this earlier in the morning from a woman named Serilda. It tells of quite the relationship between you and my wife, revealing all sorts of secrets that I refused to believe before. Secrets I now demand the truth to."

He felt his heart skip a beat as he glanced from the letter to Abraham while his mind scrambled for an answer. "You can't believe what someone writes in a letter, Abraham. Clearly this Serilda woman is out for something."

"Then tell me, Ichabod," Abraham pushed. "Tell me that you're not in love with my wife, that you haven't lain with her." His eyes narrowed. " _Touched_ her. That you didn't fill her with your seed to create what should have been mine."

With each word, Abraham took a step toward him while he backed away, his hands held up in surrender. "Abraham, listen to me."

"I want the truth!" Abraham screamed, throwing a finger at him.

"The truth?" He repeated in defeat. "The truth is that Katrina and I have known each other since we were four years old." Noticing Abraham's pause at his confession, he continued, "We were born in the same city, living only a few blocks from each other. She was my best friend whom I spent nearly every day of my youth with and, yes," he breathed, hoping Abraham could see his sorrow for the betrayal he partook in. "When I arrived in the colonies, I found that I was in love with her, but she was engaged to you by her father's arrangement." Shaking his head, he attempted to reason, "We tried to cast our feelings aside, Abraham. I swear we did, but we had a moment of weakness before your wedding. It wasn't planned, but it happened anyway." He held his hands out in pleading when Abraham's eyes widened. "I swear we didn't do it to hurt you and, then, we didn't see each other again until I returned to Sleepy Hollow many years later." With a sigh, he whispered, "I'm so sorry. The guilt that we felt for our actions against you was great."

As his words trailed off, a silence passed between them, the only sounds being that of the nature surrounding them.

"Before the wedding?"

He was surprised by that being what had caught Abraham's attention. "Yes," he muttered, with a frown.

Abraham pointed a finger behind him to indicate the direction from which they had come. "You laid with her before me?"

"Abraham-"

The man standing before him let out a harsh chuckle. "Premature."

Confusion filled him before it finally dawned on him that Abraham was referring to William and Cassie. "You said you knew they were mine."

His old friend took another threatening step toward him. "I knew about the bastard she lost, but apparently all the whore is capable of producing is bastards."

Anger quickly replaced his confusion as he pointed a finger at the man fixing him with a death glare. "You have every right to be angry, Abraham, furious even, but I will not allow you to refer to Katrina and my children as such."

A look of outrage creased Abraham's face as he drew his sword and held it to him. " _Your_ children? After I kill you," he bit out, punctuating it by placing his sword to Ichabod's chest. "The first thing I'll do when I get home is send your bastards off to some orphanage and, then," he threatened with a smile he'd never seen before, one indicating foul thoughts. "I'll take what Katrina owes me. Her life of comfort is over. She will give me an heir, whether she wants to or not."

Rage taking over, he knocked Abraham's sword aside before drawing his own. "I don't wish to fight you, Abraham, but you will not threaten them again."

Without acknowledging his words, Abraham lunged at him forcefully, nearly catching him in the shoulder. As he parried his blows, he did his best to reason with him. "Abraham, stop this!"

With another lunge, Abraham stumbled past him as he sidestepped. When he regained his footing, Abraham spun, completely outraged, and screamed, "I'm going to kill you for touching her!"

"Don't pretend as if you care about her," he bit out while holding his sword out to his former friend. "You've never appreciated her, never attempted to make her happy. Even now, you're not even angry she loves me as much as the fact that I've lain with her. She deserves the world and all you've ever done is abuse her as she's never been more than some pretty object for you to dangle in front of others."

Abraham screamed again as he brought his sword down for what would have been a deathly blow had he not brought his own sword up just in time. The blades clanged together forcefully and locked. With all his strength, he shoved his former friend back and continued, "You had it all, Abraham, and you squandered it away. I would have given anything to have Katrina and our children."

"She was never yours to have!" Abraham shouted, a deranged look taking over his features. "She was mine! I paid for her and you attempted to steal her from beneath me!"

"Steal her?" he asked incredulously. "Katrina is a woman who can make her own choices and even if she wasn't, I'd not have to steal anything. She willingly gave herself to me." Feeling a bit of resentment and pride fill him at the thought of the man before him and all he'd done, he bit out, "And she never had to pretend she was with someone else while she was with me, either." He smirked. "It must be quite the blow for your ego to know she was thinking of me while you smothered her with your failed attempts at bringing her to fruition."

With another cry of rage, Abraham shoved him away and he suddenly found himself on his back with Abraham towering over him, his sword ready to strike. "Her pleasure will be of little worry to me as I take what I wish from her this night. My only regret will be the knowledge that you'll be far too dead to see the outcome of it." He dug his sword into the hollow of his neck, puncturing the skin. "The things I intend to do to her. She-"

A shot echoed and the next thing he comprehended was Abraham falling to his knees, his hands clutching his belly. Quickly sitting up and spinning to look behind him, he found a band of Hessians approaching on horseback.

"Abraham," he shouted, scrambling to his friends side as more shots hit the ground beside him causing him to flinch and duck down. As he placed his hand on Abraham's wound, he found himself torn as the blood began to slip through his fingers. There were too many of them to fight and the documents he was carrying were too important. None of that was to mention who he was and what it would mean if he were captured. While he was attempting to decide his next course of action, a searing pain ripped through his thigh. Falling to the ground next to Abraham, he placed a hand to the wound that was now gushing blood, soaking the material surrounding it. With another glance at Abraham, who seemed to be wavering in and out of consciousness, he shoved himself to his feet.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, grabbing the documents and stumbling into the brush at their side. Pain shot through his limbs as he pushed himself to keep running, doing his best to ignore it's intensity. As he distanced himself from the road, the shouting and neighing of horses began to fade, but the growing ache in his chest only doubled.


	35. Chapter 35

_Four days later_

"Captain Crane, you've been requested to make an appearance at the General's tent."

Sighing, he picked himself up and made his way, a limp in his every step. So, the time had finally come. He'd been waiting for the General's return for the last day or so. Abraham's body had never been recovered, but his funeral had still taken place in Sleepy Hollow, an event which Washington, himself, had attended. No doubt Abraham's wealth had drawn quite the influential crowd. He, however, was still trying to grapple with his mind to figure out what exactly it was that had happened between him and his once friend. Reaching the tent, he pulled back the flap and clumsily stepped through as the angle pulled at his thigh, causing a pain he nearly bit his tongue off at. When he adjusted himself, surprise filled him at the people present. Thomas wasn't the only person to accompany the General back. Both Alfred and Katrina were present as well.

"Captain Crane," Washington greeted formally with a slight nod of his head.

"General."

The man circled the table. "It's no secret why I've summoned you here." He came to a stop a few feet in front of him. "I wish to know the details of what happened on your journey here. Both Thomas and Katrina have informed me that Abraham said I sent him with you. I gave no such order to him."

This didn't surprise him in the least. "I had assumed as much, General."

"Details, Captain."

He shrugged as he leaned against the table to take the weight off of his leg. "There's really not much to report, Sir." His eyes were glued to the man's shoes rather than his eyes. He was also doing everything within his power not to look at the pair of green eyes he just knew were glued to him in concern.

"I find that very hard to believe," Washington answered. "The truth, Captain."

"It's my fault he's dead," he whispered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Katrina make a move toward him, but Alfred stopped her with an outstretched arm. "What do you mean? Are you saying you killed him?"

"We were fighting, distracted," he offered solemnly. "It allowed the Hessians the opportunity to close in without our notice. Abraham was shot and I barely escaped, after having also taken a bullet to the leg."

"And what is it that you were fighting about?" Alfred asked in a tone that told he wasn't particularly confused about the reason.

Sighing, he finally brought his eyes to her. "He found out about us."

Confusion filled her features as she took a step forward despite Alfred's glare. "How?"

"He received a letter," he answered simply. "Serilda's work, I believe."

Katrina's eyes took on shock as Alfred bit out accusingly, "So you were fighting over Katrina, then?"

His gaze jerked to Alfred's, frustration seeping into him. "He was furious and had every right to be."

"But, of course, he's dead now," Alfred said in a rather dramatic manner. "And Katrina is a widow, free to marry again."

He took a daring step toward the man, having had quite enough of his accusations. "Are you implying something, Reverend? Abraham was killed by Hessians."

"And if the Hessians had not arrived?"

Taking in the man's bruised face, he fixed him with a pointed look. "That's not something I can know, nor anything you have the right to assume about."

Katrina looked between them before softly offering, "The important thing is that Ichabod is safe."

Alfred huffed. "Odd words from a supposedly grieving widow."

She rounded on the man, a fire raging in her green eyes. "Do not think to criticize me! Ichabod is the Witness."

Alfred lifted a finger toward her. "Let's not pretend that's why you're happy he's the one who returned. Everyone present knows about the affair the two of you have been carrying on with for over half a decade now."

"Don't you dare stand there and judge me," she bit out. "You know as well as I that Abraham and I could barely tolerate each other. Of course, I'm not grieving a man I did not want to marry in the first place."

The General stepped forward. "The main issue to discuss is that there are Hessians running about near here. They'll need to be quickly dealt with."

Katrina finally took her heated gaze from Alfred and turned to Washington with a nod. "I'll remain here. Alfred will return to Sleepy Hollow for the coven. They can hunt down and root out the Hessian's location."

"While you remain here with your lover? I think not."

She cut her eyes at the Reverend. "Don't forget who's in charge here, Alfred. You will do as I have said and depart immediately." She straightened her stance. "I am the leader of our coven. When I give an order, you follow it. Besides..." she paused with a knowing glare. "Aren't you the one who said I was most qualified when it comes to protecting the Witness?"

Her voice had entered into one of authority that left no room for question.

As the tension in the room began to thicken, the General finally cleared his throat. "Very well, if that is all, I need to inform my men of our morning departure. Thomas, be of some assistance and fetch my aide."

As the General withdrew from the tent, Thomas in tow, he suddenly found himself with two sets of eyes boring into him. One with barely concealed agitation and the other with quite a bit of concern.

Katrina, never taking her eyes from him, spoke. "You may now take your leave, Reverend."

The man gave a huff before stalking past him. His gaze followed the Reverend's path until the flaps of the tent were falling back into place.

"What happened?"

Her question was soft, concern clearly exuding from her voice.

"I told you what happened," he answered tiredly, his gaze now on a flickering candle across the room."

"You've not told it all," she said stepping to stand directly before him.

"But I have, Katrina." He finally met her eyes. "He threatened you, threatened William and Cassie, and then he attacked me."

Her eyes danced over him, coming to rest on his chest. "You did nothing wrong. If he attacked you, then you had every reason to defend yourself."

"I might as well have killed him myself."

"Ichabod, " she whispered, reaching out to touch him, but he stepped away.

"Don't." The hurt that flashed over her face dropped his gaze. He simply couldn't deal with her touching him right now as he knew he would only fall apart in her arms if she did so. "I wanted him dead, Katrina. I've wanted him dead for a very long time."

She shook her head. "That doesn't matter. You wouldn't have done it."

Bringing a hand to his head, he replied, "You don't know that. _I_ don't even know that." He squeezed his eyes shut. "He was going on and on about what he was going to do to you. How he was going to force himself on you, make you give him a child...I wanted him dead, Katrina."

With a nod, she took another step toward him, but didn't attempt to touch him. "You did nothing wrong. Anyone would have done what you did."

"He threatened William and Cassie."

"Then, he's lucky the Hessians killed him." In confusion, he caught her steely gaze. "He met too quick an end in comparison to what I would have done to him."

Unable to help himself, he brought a hand to her cheek, his heart quickening at the feel of her smooth skin. "You're free of him."

A small smile came to her face as she reached up to lace their fingers together. "I suppose, for once, you saved me."

"That's an odd way of looking at it," he answered in slight amusement.

"There's always a bright side," she whispered in return.

After a moment of simply taking in her green eyes, he asked, "How are they?"

With a heavy sigh, she shrugged. "William is withdrawn and Cassie talks around the issue. The silence isn't something she is dealing with very well."

Nodding, he said, "He might have been horrible, but he was still the only father they knew."

"I suppose," came her soft whisper.

"What happens now?" he asked, attempting to keep the hope out of his voice, but failing miserably.

She stepped back, fully removing herself from his touch, with a deep breath. "Nothing's changed."

Dumbfounded, he stated, "Everything has changed, Katrina."

"No," she whispered sorrowfully. "It hasn't. My coven still poses a threat. _Alfred_ still poses a threat. He would never allow even the thought of it."

Frustrated, he shook his head, throwing his hands up. "This is ridiculous."

"I know."

After a moment, he shifted his weight as his wound was beginning to pulse.

"I can heal you."

"There's no need," he answered tiredly. "I consider it my punishment for leaving an unarmed man to die."

"Ichabod-"

"I need to return to my tent to begin packing."

With that, he limped out of the tent.


	36. Chapter 36

_One week later_

Approaching the triage tent, Ichabod groaned as he held his hand tightly. "I can't believe you don't know how to stitch."

"Do I look like a nurse to you?" asked Thomas.

Glancing at Thomas, he quirked his eyebrows. "You just want an excuse to visit the nurses."

With an appalled expression, Thomas brought a hand to his heart. "How could you possibly think such a thing? That I would allow my friend to suffer through such pain all to see a few pretty ladies."

Rolling his eyes, he noticed the particular tent they needed come into view and sighed. He and Katrina had been avoiding each other since the meeting. Moving camp had been an easy enough distraction, but now he was in need of stitches and he had no choice but to venture into her area. He only hoped she wasn't there. As he entered, he took a seat on one of the cots and breathed his relief at not seeing her after glancing around anxiously.

"How may I help you?" asked one of the nurses.

"I-"

"Captain Crane here just needs a little help," Thomas cut in with a smile. "I thought I'd bring him to a professional such as yourself."

The young nurse's dark brown eyes raked over Thomas momentarily before jerking away, a slight blush creeping into her features. Wishing he were anywhere else, he held up the hand that was pouring blood, hoping to gain a bit of medical attention.

The young nurses eyes widened. "Oh! Of course! One moment."

As she moved across the tent, he observed Thomas watching her go. "Thomas, leave the nurses be."

His friend gave him an innocent look. "I haven't done anything yet."

" _Yet_ ," he punctuated. "It's always yet, with you."

"Tabitha? Have you checked on Mr. Kent lately?"

Her voice pulled his attention from Thomas. Jerking his gaze to the place it originated, he found her only a few feet away, her notice having not found them. Holding his breath, he hoped she would move on, remaining oblivious to them.

"Not yet, but I will just as soon as I help Mr. Crane with his injury."

Releasing the breath he was holding through his teeth, he rolled his eyes. Perfect.

Katrina's eyes were already scrunched in confusion as she asked, "Mr. Crane?"

The young woman nodded and gestured in his direction. "Yes. He's there."

Katrina's gaze followed the woman's hand and landed on him, a look of confusion clouding her features for a moment before her eyes fell to his hand and a slightly panicked expression coming to her face as she quickly stepped to him. "Ichabod, what happened?"

While she grabbed his bleeding mess of a hand and inspected it, he answered, "My knife slipped. It was a clumsy accident."

"It's deep," she whispered, bending close to take in the full extent of the wound. "You'll need stitches."

She was too close. Attempting to pull his hand from her, he cleared his throat. "This young lady was just about to attend to it."

As his hand slipped from hers, her green eyes flickered up to his. How so many emotions could pass across her face in a moment always amazed him. With a terse nod, she backed away and spoke in her more official manner, rather than the soft one she'd just been using with him. "Tabitha, Mr. Crane is waiting."

She then moved to stand by Thomas, her arms crossed, and made conversation with him while Tabitha stepped in front of him. She was new. He could see it in her nervous body language and imagined she couldn't have seen too many days in this manner as she appeared completely at a loss for what to do as her fingers fumbled with the needle and thread.

"It's alright, Tabitha," he offered gently. "Just take your time."

She looked up at him with wide eyes before pushing her dark hair from her face and nodding. As she looked back down, he wondered when she would realize the wound needed to be cleaned first before she started stitching. The cut could barely be seen past all the blood and dirt that was caked over it. Tabitha cast another nervous glance back up at him before turning to Katrina. "Maybe you should do this. I haven't yet gotten much experience with stitching."

Katrina was about to speak, when he interrupted, "You can do this, Tabitha. You simply need to clean the wound first."

He knew Katrina was watching him, knew her green eyes were glued to his face, but he avoided her gaze. Grabbing a towel, he dipped it in some water and began cleaning the wound himself. Once he was finished, Tabitha picked up the needle and thread again and attempted to thread the needle, but her hands were shaking quite noticeably, her efforts reaping no reward. By the third attempt, Katrina stepped forward. "Here, let me help you."

Her nearness had him immediately set on edge. She was so close, her skirt brushing his legs as they hung over the cot. Sucking in a breath, he watched her thread the needle on her first attempt before trying to hand it back to the nurse. "No," Tabitha began, backing away. "You should do it. I...I have to go check on Mr. Kent."

As the young woman rushed away, Thomas leaned against a post and chuckled. "Why is it that girls always run from you, Crane? Remind me to leave you behind the next time I visit a tavern."

At Thomas's words, Katrina roughly squeezed his cut, prompting him to attempt jerking it back, but she held it fast. "Ow! Katrina!"

She kept her eyes on his hand as she wiped the excess blood away. "There was something in it."

"I'm sure," he muttered with a glare.

She caught his eyes for a moment as the corner of her mouth gave way to the wisp of a smile. "It's going to hurt. I'll do my best to be gentle, but you have to remain still."

Nodding his understanding, he watched as she searched for a place to begin. A part of him was quite grateful she'd taken over, not that she was going to hear that from him. She was as skilled at nursing as she was at her craft as a witch and he knew she would take the utmost care of him. Adjusting himself, he clenched his teeth as she stuck the needle through his skin. Free hand gripping the cot as stinging pain shot through him, he searched for a distraction and found it in the steady pulsing of her chest. Why she had to be so beautiful, so blessed with such smooth skin, was beyond his reckoning. Gaze wandering up her slender neck, he thought of all the times he'd had his mouth there, teasing her skin with his lips, the way she would moan as her fingers clutched at his shoulders and hair.

Before long, she was setting the needle down and lifting his hand to check her work. "It'll be sore, but I'm sure it will heal fine."

Eyes taking in the way her lips moved as she spoke, he found himself mesmerized. That is, until he realized she'd stopped speaking and his gaze left her lips to meet her eyes, which were focused on him with an intense stare. Mentally cursing himself as a slight blush crept over him, he looked to Thomas who was doing a poor job of pretending he wasn't watching them. Clearing his throat, he stood and rather awkwardly maneuvered himself around her. "Well, thank you, Katrina. You... did a lovely job, but, uhm, we should- we should be going now."

"Anything for you," she whispered with the hint of a smile.

The look she was giving him was not lost on him. She knew exactly what his thoughts had been and she obviously was enjoying his moment of discomfort. All but running from the tent, he welcomed the fresh air outside.

"The two of you grate my nerves."

"Excuse me?" he asked, turning to Thomas with a frown.

His friend shook his head. "You should talk to her. All of this dancing around is draining on me. I can't imagine what it must be like for the two of you."

"You know I can't. We've been strictly forbidden from having any sort of lengthy contact."

His answer was spoken almost robotically. When had his denial of his love become such an immediate thought?

"I won't tell," Thomas quickly countered. "Besides, she misses you. I visit her every now and then and all she ever does is ask or talk about you. I swear she's worse than you are."

Sighing, he looked back at the tent that held his love. "No. This is for the best. There's no use in tempting fate."

"Well if you ask me," Thomas offered. "Fates been screaming for the two of you to be together for years, but you're both too busy worrying over things that may never even happen to listen."

"It's more complicated than that, Thomas," he answered tiredly. "You know that."

Thomas shrugged. "The way I see it, everyone's scared that their decisions are going to screw up the future. Whether it's their children, their marriage, their jobs, the fate of the world. But you can't let fear stop you from living." His friend fixed him with the most serious look he'd ever seen grace his face. "You only get one life, Crane. Do you really want to spend it without her?"

Kicking at the dirt beneath his feet, he muttered, "It's getting late. You should get some rest, Thomas."

With that, he began making his way through the trees. He needed more air and less of the feeling like everyone was watching him, a feeling that had become quite normal as of late. After a time, he found himself at the shore of the river. It was places like these where he always enjoyed doing his thinking. The moon reflecting off the water's surface, the sounds of nature as all activity fell still for the night. There was no one here that would interfere with his thoughts, thoughts that always somehow found their way to her.

Thomas' words were weighing on him. Of course, he wanted to be with her. He wanted it more than anything in the world, more than anything he'd ever wanted previously in his life. To be with her and their children, to have more children...he dreamed of it nightly.

Once more kicking at the dirt beneath his boots, he sighed. No. Katrina was right. It was never to be.


	37. Chapter 37

"You shouldn't be out here alone."

Startled at the sudden intrusion into the silence, his body tensed before his eyes fell closed. Why was she here? Of all the times for her to seek him out, she chose this one. Sucking in a deep breath, he turned to find her standing a few yards from him. "I'm fine."

With a small smile, she ventured forward in a, to his surprise, playful manner and joined him at the shoreline. "Thomas didn't seem to think so. He told me I should come talk some sense into you, that you wouldn't listen to reason."

At her knowing expression, he chuckled. Thomas had never been known for his subtlety. Gaze back out over the water, he shook his head. "Thomas. He never knows when to tend to his own affairs."

"He cares for you," she whispered. "I'm glad you have a friend like him."

A moment of silence passed between them as he struggled to find something to say to her, anything to say to her. However, nothing was coming to mind.

"So, what is it?"

Frowning, he returned his gaze to hers, which was boring into him. "What?"

"The reason Thomas thought I should visit you."

"Oh," he whispered awkwardly, his mind desperately searching for an excuse as he shrugged. "It was nothing really."

Eyes trained on the gentle flow of the river, he found the longer it took her to respond, the harder it became not to look at her again. Finally giving in, he gave her a small glance to find her frowning. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she quickly responded, her gaze falling to her hands as she twisted them together in clear agitation. "It's just...there was a time when you would tell me every thought in your head."

With a sigh, he turned to her fully, his heart torn. "Things aren't as simple as they were when we were children, Katrina. They're..."

She gave a small nod. However, her face betrayed her hurt. "I understand. You need to protect yourself...from me."

"Katrina..." he whispered, desperately wanting to reach out to her.

In a seemingly shrugged off manner, she shook her head and pulled something out of the small bag she was carrying. "This is for you," she said, holding out a small object to him.

With a frown, he accepted the offering and with a touch of surprise discovered it to be a small carving in the shape of a star. Turning it over in his hand, he found William's name carved into the back of it.

"William took to woodwork shortly after your departure," she said softly. "He made that for you and wanted me to tell you that whenever he looks to the stars, he thinks of you...because he knows you'll think of him."

_"How many are there?"_

_Startled by William's question, he glanced down at his son, who was gazing contentedly up at the night sky. "Oh, I'm not sure. A great many."_

_William gave him a small frown. "I thought you knew everything. Mama said you're the smartest man alive."_

_"Did she?" he asked with a grin, purposing to tease Katrina about this new information at a later time. "Well, even the smartest man alive doesn't know all the secrets of the universe."_

_His son shrugged and returned his attention to the stars. "Are they everywhere?"_

_"Yes, they are." He lifted his hand to gesture to them. "When I was a boy, my grandfather, his name was Jeremy Crane, would travel a great deal of the time. It always saddened me because I so enjoyed his company as he would tell these stories of his grand adventures and all the wonders he'd seen. So, one day, upon his departure, he told me that the world was a very big place, but no matter where he was, whenever he looked to the stars, he and I would be sharing the same majestic sight." He smiled at the memory. "It always made me feel connected to him, close to him."_

_After a moment, he chanced a glance at his son, who was staring at him, seemingly riveted by his small tale. When William realized his story was finished, he gave a hopeful expression. "Will you think of me when you leave?"_

_Heart constricting, he swallowed down the lump in his throat and nodded. "Always, William." He smiled in a manner that gave way to a secret. "It shall be our story now."_

_"Just the two of us?" William asked excitedly._

_"Yes, William," he answered with a smile. "Just the two of us."_

"It's beautiful," he whispered, suddenly overcome with emotion that was threatening to take him to his knees. It certainly didn't help that he could feel her gaze boring into him, which was the reason he couldn't quite bring himself to look at her. Looking at her was never the answer when he wanted to maintain the ability to hold himself together. She was forever both his greatest strength and greatest weakness.

"I can heal you if you want. I would have done it earlier, but it wasn't exactly the place for such a display."

At her offer, he looked down at his hand and shook his head. "It's fine. I've had much worse."

"I wish you would let me," she gently pushed. "It's rather deep and I'm worried it will get infected. Camp isn't exactly the best place for such injuries."

She was right, of course. Infection was a cause for concern, not that he thought it was likely. However, the concern in her voice was what had him nodding his consent. "Very well. If you think it's best."

Holding his hand out to her, she gently accepted it and covered it with her own. The familiar warmth of her magic filled him as he observed the cut close, the threads from the stitches falling away as the sensation crept over him. No matter how many times he saw such things, they still somehow managed to amaze him. That things like magic and witches were real, and his love was one with them, was quite remarkable.

When no visible sign of his injury remained, she whispered, "There, good as new."

Though, she was finished, she didn't release his hand. Instead, she held it fast, going so far as to thread their fingers together. It didn't even seem as though she was aware she'd done such a thing, but that it had occurred more out of habit than anything else. Her touch sent shivers down him to the point that he had to remind himself to breathe. After swallowing down his nerves, he took a step closer to her and brought his free hand up to push a few strands of her red hair behind her ear. He didn't fail to notice the fact that her chest was rising and falling at a pace faster than normal, which permitted him the knowledge that he was affecting her in much the same way she did him. She was so close. Dropping his hand to her neck, he pulled her flush against him and laid his head to her shoulder.

"I missed you," he breathed into her warm skin.

Her hands slid up his chest, one wrapping around his middle and the other threading through his hair as she turned into him. "I missed you, too. I've missed you so much, my love."

Feeling himself begin to lose himself in her scent, he voiced the first thought that came to him. "Marry me."

The immediate stiffening of her body brought a feeling like he might actually empty his stomach to the forefront. When she finally moved her head back to look at him, a shocked expression was present on her face. "What did you say?"

His eyes locked on hers as he tried to wrap his mind around what he'd just done. He couldn't believe he'd said it, but he found his resolve with Thomas's words echoing in his head. "Marry me, Katrina."

A frown creased her face as she stuttered out, "You-" She shook her head. "You know we can't."

"There's a town not four miles from here," he informed, his confidence rising. "We could go there tonight and be back by morning. No one would ever know."

Her mouth was open slightly as she stared at him, her green eyes swirling with emotion. "Ichabod, my love, nothing would make me happier than to be your wife." Her hands slid to cup his face. "But that's impossible for us. We've been through this. If my coven-"

"They don't have to know," he reasoned quickly. "We've managed to keep our affair a secret for nearly a decade, Katrina, as well as the fact that we share children." Taking her hands in his own, he held them between their bodies. "This would be for us. For once, we could have something just for us. Something no one can take."

"Ichabod, the reason we didn't marry a decade ago hasn't changed. My love for you could jeopardize the future and-"

"And what?" he asked, everything becoming so clear. "The future will always be uncertain, Katrina. Fate has brought us together time and again. We were separated by an ocean for thirteen years and yet somehow... We found each other." He pressed closer to her. "We are meant to be together. I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life."

She was quiet for a moment before she gave more hesitation. "And what about my power? What if I have to choose between you and the world?"

"Would staying away from me," he began. "Not becoming my wife, make you love me less? Would it change your choice?"

Doubt clouded her eyes as she tore them from him and looked out over the lake. He watched her brow crease in thought as all the emotion she normally kept bottled up swirl across her face. "No." She shook her head in defeat. "I'd still always choose you. I'd choose you each and every time."

"Then, you have your answer," he said, his inner excitement growing. "Now, answer me." He tightened his hold on her fingers. "Will you marry me? Tonight?"

Her eyes came back to him and ever so slowly a smile crept into her features, which only filled him with more anticipation. "Yes."

Raising his eyebrows, unsure if this was real or a cruel dream, he repeated, "Yes? You said, yes? As in...the affirmative?"

A light laugh escaped her before she leaned up and placed a soft kiss to his lips. "Yes, Ichabod. I'll marry you. Tonight."

* * *

"Hey, Crane, you awake?"

"Yes, Thomas, I'm awake."

Thomas spun around so quickly, Ichabod thought he surely had whiplash. For a moment, his head looked from the tent to him, then back again. "How did you slip by me?"

Well, that was an easy enough answer. He'd simply never gone to sleep. "I got an early start to the day. I didn't really sleep last night."

"Oh," Thomas said in a knowing tone. "Katrina keep you up?"

His eyes jerked to Thomas, a sliver of fear consuming him. "What?"

"Your were up thinking about Katrina," Thomas explained with a frown. "I take it she found you last night."

Relief flooded him as he nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, she found me." And married me. He still couldn't believe it. They'd made the trek to town in excellent time. The Reverend they woke was none too pleased, but they didn't really care. They'd hurried him along and exchanged vows under the moonlight that was shining more brightly than usual in his opinion. Though, Katrina had said that was all in his head and no such thing had happened. It was all rather rushed, however, as they had known they would be pushing it to reach camp once more before daybreak, but they had. With a kiss in the early morning light, they'd parted ways not twenty minutes ago.

"And?"

Frowning at Thomas, he was uncertain what his friend wanted. "And...what?"

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Did the two of you work everything out? Or are you going to continue with your dancing around each other awkwardly?"

"Yes," he answered softly. "We came to an agreement." Thomas looked as though he wished for him to elaborate, but he wasn't giving another thing up. "Shall we see what our tasks for the day are?"

Letting out a disappointed breath, Thomas sighed, "Fine."

As Thomas stalked past him in a brooding manner, he found himself unable to contain his smile as he turned to follow, thoughts of his wife at the forefront of his mind.


	38. Chapter 38

"Ichabod..."

Her fingers were currently digging into his back as she held him tightly to her, her breathing erratic as her chest heaved against him. It was unreal how she had him so completely lost in her that he was unsure he would ever be able to leave her embrace. He knew he certainly never wanted to do such a thing. The feelings coursing through him were like that of every dream he'd ever had. Trailing his kisses back to her mouth, he smiled at her soft gasp of his name. It was fairly apparent he wasn't the only one lost in feeling. "Yes, my love?"

"Don't forget."

It'd been three days since their whirlwind of a wedding and tonight was the first time they'd been able to find a moment alone. The separation he'd been forced to endure without touching her had nearly driven him mad. By the time he'd reached her in the woods where they'd agreed to meet as soon as the sun had disappeared from the evening sky, he'd been more than ready to consummate their vows. The moment he had reached her, they'd become a tangle of arms, legs, and seeking mouths. Their lengthy separation over the past year had been much too long for his liking and it was something he had been fully ready to end.

"I won't," he whispered, his mouth sliding along her jaw to find that spot just behind her ear that drove her mad. There was little he loved more in these moments than having her come completely undone in his arms.

Her warning was in reference to their agreement to avoid accidentally creating another child. In the past, they'd never really taken precaution, but now more than ever they had to be extra aware. If she were to fall with child again, there'd be nothing to stop suspicion from falling on the two of them. That was to say nothing of Katrina's being a widow and the rumors that would fly with her actions that had led to the creation of said child, the names she'd be called and the scrutiny that would fall upon her. It was something he would not subject her to.

At his end, he collapsed against her, resting his head to her shoulder and shivering as the night air cooled their overheated bodies while he attempted to regain his breathing. When her hands began stroking along his back, he placed a kiss to her shoulder and leaned up on his elbows to grin down at her. She was so beautiful as she lie beneath him. Her hair splayed out all around her, mouth slightly open as she took in each heavy breath, green eyes shining up at him in what he could only describe as pure joy.

"I do believe you've exhausted me, Mrs. Crane."

Her mirth filled laughter brought a smile to his face.

"Have I, Mr. Crane?" she asked, her hands sliding up his back to pull him back down to her. "Well, then, I suppose we'll have to work at it some more to increase your endurance."

Her lips were a breath away when he whispered, "You're insatiable. We've been at it for quite a while now."

As she spoke, her lips brushed his. "We have much time to make up for. Years upon years of stolen time where we should have been doing just this."

Eyes softening, he brushed her hair from her face and said softly, "I know, my love."

Abruptly, she pushed at him until he found himself on his back with her leaning over him, her long hair tickling his face.

"Don't worry, my love," she whispered, pressing herself against him intimately. "I'll do all the work. Just relax and...remember to breathe."

* * *

Those words had been his undoing as she'd taken him to places he hadn't realized existed. Just before daybreak, he'd reluctantly parted from her and his lack of sleep was now pressing on him as he came to stand before Washington, doing his best to suppress the yawn that was attempting to make its way out of him.

"You wished to see me, Sir?"

"Ah yes, Captain Crane," Washington clapped as he stood from his seat. "Come. We have much to discuss."

Stepping up to the table, he followed Washington's indication of the many maps spread across the table.

"A battle in the next few days seems inevitable and I have an important mission for you."

"A mission, Sir?"

Washington nodded, a serious gaze creasing his face. "There's rumor of a man, a Hessian. He's a ruthless mercenary that has suddenly appeared to fight for the enemy and will undoubtedly be present. I want you to find this man and put an end to him."

With a frown, he asked, "How will I know him? They all look the same when they have a musket aimed at you."

Washington pulled out a drawing and handed it to him. "He'll have a scar in the shape of a bow upon his hand. I must warn you Captain Crane, he is an extremely dangerous adversary and will kill you without a second thought. It is crucial that you find and defeat him first. His terror must come to an end before it's too late." Washington placed his hand on his shoulder. "This mission is of the utmost importance. His defeat could change the tide of the war. You _must_ find him. It is your duty, Captain."

With his assurance to the General that he would seek out this man, he readied himself to exit the tent when the General's voice called him back. "Crane."

"Sir?"

Washington shifted in slight discomfort. "Do not mention this task to Katrina."

Confusion seeped into him. "She's the coven leader. Shouldn't she be made aware? She's my protector."

"I'll inform her after your departure," Washington assured. "This mission has a high chance of resulting fatal." He gave a knowing look. "And I fear she will not allow you to leave if she's aware of the danger in this mission. It must be _you_ to kill this man."

With a great deal of hesitation and confusion, he nodded and exited the tent.

The next day, he explained the situation to the small group of men who would be accompanying him, only giving the details that pertained to the danger in the mission and nothing more. Other than that task, he'd spent his time avoiding his wife, which he knew would only last so long. He simply could not bring himself to look her in the eyes and lie to her, even if by omission. The fact that her work had kept her busy had been a blessing in disguise, something he hadn't thought he would have previously thought as he'd wanted nothing more than to wrap himself around her forever before Washington had given his orders.

"Thomas," he called as he saw him conversing across the way. His friend turned to him in question as he reached into his coat to produce a letter. "I want you to remain here tomorrow."

"What?" Thomas exclaimed, his eyes widening. "No! I'm going with you."

"I need you to stay here. Please, Thomas. If something happens to me..." He shook his head as he stared down at the letter in his hand. "I need you to deliver this to Katrina."

"Someone else can do that," Thomas protested. " _Anyone_ else can do that."

"Anyone else might read it. You're the only one I trust this to. _Please_ ," he whispered desperately. "She'll be completely alone and without comfort in the event of my... You're the only one I trust to inform her, Thomas. No one else will understand, or realize how deeply this will affect her."

He watched as Thomas looked to the camp of bustling men before kicking at the dirt in resignation. "Alright."

Relief washed through him as he laid a hand to his friend's shoulder. "Thank you, Thomas. You've been a saving grace in my life and a better friend than I ever could have asked for. I wish you all the best."

Thomas gave a roll of his eyes, shrugging off his hand. "Just come back, Crane. You wouldn't want to miss meeting that future lucky lady of mine."

With a chuckle, he shook his head. "Of course, my friend. Of course."

* * *

Night had fallen, finding him in the process of doing his best to acquire sleep, but it was thoroughly evading him. His mind felt too overwhelmed, too full of thoughts, scenarios and, of course, Katrina. The idea of leaving her without the true knowledge of his mission was weighing on him and, at times, it took all of his restraint to hold himself down from running to her and confessing all.

"Crane, you might want to get out here."

Curious at the tone of his friend's voice, he stepped out of his tent and found Thomas leaning against a tree with his attention clearly caught onto something across the way. Following his line of sight, he was surprised to see Alfred and the General standing at a distance with Katrina. He hadn't even been aware of Alfred's return. That, however, wasn't what caught his attention as much as what Katrina was doing. She was very obviously upset as her hands were pointing at the two dramatically, the anger in her body language evident.

"What's happening?"

"Not sure," Thomas replied as he chewed on a piece of straw. "Alfred just returned and they began conversing. Now, she's quite furious about something. I'm really glad I'm not them."

Alfred suddenly glanced at him and he knew exactly what it was they were discussing. Tomorrow's events. Heart picking up pace, he realized Katrina knew. Taking a deep breath, he watched as she turned to face him as well and then she was stalking toward him, clear anger and determination in her every step.

"You're in trouble," mumbled Thomas with a bit of a chuckle to which he threw an annoyed glare.

Upon reaching him, she grabbed his hand and jerked him to follow her, gaining quite a few surprised looks from the men standing around as she led him into the trees. Once they were far away from prying eyes, she turned and slapped him clear across his cheek.

"How could you keep that from me!?"

Shocked at her outburst and the sting of her hand, he began, "Katrina-"

"You were going to march into battle to die without even bothering to tell me!" She circled him like a cat about to pounce on its prey. "I'm your _wife_ , now, Ichabod. You made me your wife and now you're going to just leave me?" She threw a finger at him as his eyes only went wider. "You selfish bastard. You got what you wanted from me and now you're going to leave me."

When she looked as if she were about to dissolve into tears, he stepped forward to catch her eyes, his heart unable to bear her tears. "I'm so sorry, my love," he whispered in a voice that pled for her understanding. "The General made me swear not to tell you. He thought you would prevent my leaving."

"He was right," she quickly replied, her hands sliding to his neck to hold him. "Ichabod...please don't go. You can't leave me, not now. _Please."_

The urge to simply take her and flee entered him, but he pushed it down. "I must. The General said I'm the only one who can defeat this man."

"Man?" she asked incredulously. "Ichabod, Washington is sending you to face Death himself, the first of the Four Horseman."

His blood ran cold. "Death?"

"Yes, and I fear it's a battle you will not return from."

Overcome with thoughts running rampant, he pulled from her and aimlessly gazed into the trees.

"Ichabod?"

Taking a deep breath, he spoke to the darkness rather than her. "I'm the Witness. This is the reason for everything that's happened since we were reunited. The reason we couldn't be together, that I couldn't be a father to our children, that I can't tell the world that I possess your heart." He swallowed down his emotion. "It's my mission to do this, my destiny."

Her hand grasped his arm as she moved in front of him, her face set with resolve. "Your destiny is not to die, Ichabod."

"Perhaps, I won't," he answered half heartedly, though not believing it himself.

"I know I'm being selfish and this is why the coven kept us apart, but..." She shook her head as she clung to him tightly. "I can't lose you, Ichabod. I _won't_ lose you."

He placed his hands to her neck as he leaned his forehead against hers. "You must have faith, my love. I do not feel this will be the last time we see each other." With a smile, he stroked her cheek. "We're going to grow old together."

"I love you."

Fingers falling to the blue jewel around her neck, the one he'd given her so long ago when he was just a boy and she just a girl, he whispered, "I love you, too, my Katrina. Always."

"Stay with me, tonight," she plead softly.

Hesitating, he pulled back from her slightly to look into her pools of green. "But Alfred-"

"I don't care," she answered, bringing him back down to brush her lips to his. "Stay with me."

* * *

"Stay with me, Ichabod."

Though, he felt her presence, his vision was swimming in and out, preventing him from focusing on her. Everything felt as though it were on fire. "Katrina..."

"I'm here, my love," came her broken voice as she placed a kiss to his hand. "Just stay with me. Please hold on."

"We haven't much time."

Alfred. What was he doing here? There were so many things he wanted to ask, but he simply couldn't make himself do so.

"No," she pled. "Not yet."

"You must do it, now," he replied quickly. "Before it's too late. You're the only one who can. He must be preserved, Katrina."

He felt her hand on his face gently caressing him. "Ichabod, can you hear me, my love?"

"Katrina..."

It was all he could say as he felt himself fading. She was becoming too distant.

"I swear to you, I will save you." He could barely hear her. "I love you, Ichabod. Always."


	39. Chapter 39

Everything was happening so quickly. She didn't understand how to overcome this moment in her life, how to understand it. Ichabod was gone, buried beneath the earth, far from her touch, his love only an echo in her heart. She had been meant to protect him and she'd failed. Now, all she could do was hope and pray that she hadn't made any mistakes, that she hadn't left any evidence which would endanger him. As she twirled the small sapphire hanging on the chain around her neck, she thought about that day so long ago when he'd given it to her. He'd been a boy, then, but no less knowledgeable about what he wanted. His love for her had always been there.

"Where is he?"

Her eyes jerked to the opening of the tent to find Alfred and General Washington staring at her, Alfred's being rather heated in the wake of his question.

Drawing her strength around her as if it were a cloak, she answered coldly, "Safe from those who would wish him harm."

Alfred's eyes narrowed with his words. "Katrina, the coven does not wish him harm, but we have no choice. He and the Horseman are bound by blood now. It's regrettable-"

"Regrettable?" she interrupted as she stood, shoulders squared. "He was your friend, your ally, for _ten_ years."

The Reverend bristled while Washington stepped forward. "Mrs. Von Brunt-"

"It's Mrs. Crane," she bit out proudly, her eyebrows set in clear defiance.

The men froze, each bearing curious gazes, before Alfred breathed through gritted teeth, "What?"

"Ichabod and I married mere days before he faced the Horseman."

From the way he was quite obviously fuming internally, she thought Alfred might actually explode. "You foolish woman! What have you done!?"

"I've done nothing wrong," she stated simply, refusing to back down. "I married the man I have loved since I was four years old. It's done. I am his wife and, therefore, I make the decisions regarding his body." She shook her head as she leaned forward against the table, realizing she would have to seek out his reason. "He is still the Witness, Alfred. He still has a destiny and I will find a way to separate him from the Horseman."

"There is no way," he said almost automatically, like he had no thought for himself.

"Then, I will make one!" she shouted, coming very near to losing her control. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath before focusing back on the startled men. "Please, Alfred, let me at least try. My love for him aside, he's too important. You know that. It's the reason we put him to sleep. He must be preserved." She fixed him with a stare. "Those are your words."

Alfred still looked ready to protest, but Washington spoke before he could, "She's right. Every possible option must be sought out to protect the Witness. If there's a way, it would be to our benefit to find it." He looked to her pointedly. "If not, we can always revisit the issue."

Sighing, Alfred looked back to her. "The coven will not be pleased, Katrina. They won't stand for it. The moment they learn of this, they'll come for you."

"I don't care," she answered honestly.

A soldier leaned through the opening of the tent. "I'm sorry sir, but Thomas West is here requesting entrance."

She stepped forward. "Let him in."

The man looked from her to Washington, who had an eyebrow raised, but nodded nonetheless. "Do as she says."

With a nod, the man disappeared. A moment later, Thomas entered and held the tent open for William and Cassie to walk through. When they caught sight of her, they bolted forward. "Mama!"

Kneeling to the ground, she caught them as they wrapped themselves around her. It'd been too long since she'd held them in her arms and now, more than ever, she needed them. Pulling back from their tight embrace, she ran her hands over both their faces. "Are you alright? Did you have a safe journey?"

They both nodded as Cassie spoke, "We missed you."

Katrina gave the best smile she could muster. "I missed you, too, my darlings. More than you could possibly imagine."

William hugged her again, burrowing himself into her side. "Are you taking us home, mama?"

Feeling her heart break at what she knew was to come, she ran a hand through her son's hair before pulling him back to look into his blue eyes, eyes so like Ichabod's. "No, my sweet William. That's not our home anymore. You're going to have a new home, now." Her eyes moved to Cassie. "Both of you."

Cassie frowned, her small fingers reaching to stroke through her hair. "Where?"

Katrina's throat felt as though it were closing off as she blinked to keep her tears back. Looking down to their small hands in her own, she gave a sad smile. "Somewhere safe, where no one will ever hurt you again."

William's little hands wiped at her cheeks bringing her eyes back to him, her sweet son. "Mama?"

With a deep breath, she whispered the dreaded words, "Thomas is going to take you there and he's going to take care of you."

They both looked to Thomas, who was shuffling his feet a few steps away. Cassie turned back to her with confusion written across her face. "Why can't you take us?"

Katrina caught her daughter's eyes. Cassie was always so curious and her outspoken nature caused her to often voice that curiosity, a trait that often worried Katrina. She knew well enough how difficult life could be with such an independent spirit. It made her both proud and fearful for her daughter that she shared such a similar trait with her. "I want to. I want to go with you so desperately, but... I can't."

"Why not? Are you leaving us again?" Cassie's little frown had dissolved into clear worry. "You can't leave us, mama. Why do you always leave us?"

"Cassie...sweetheart," she pled, tightening her hold on her hand. "I know you don't understand and I'm so sorry, but I have things, important things, that I must take care of."

William pulled back from her with a frown of his own. "No, mama."

Katrina reached for his hand, but he stepped back from her, a hard look coming over his face. "William, please-"

"No!"

As he screamed, a fire burst to life in the center of the table, the documents and maps on it falling prey to its flames. After a moment of shock, Alfred jumped forward and waved his hand, promptly extinguishing the flames as she brought her gaze back to her son in time to catch his furious expression before he turned and ran out through the flaps of the tent.

"William!"

She stood and turned to her daughter. "Stay with Thomas, Cassie."

"But-"

"Stay!" she bit out over her shoulder.

Quickly exiting the tent, she allowed her gaze to wander around the dark camp. The soldier standing guard at the entrance pointed toward the river. "He went that way."

"Thank you," she muttered, immediately taking off in that direction.

She slowed as she found him sitting with his back to a tree overlooking the river and couldn't help but take a moment to watch him. Despite current circumstances, she felt a small smile overcome her. He looked so much like Ichabod sitting there, all stiff and brooding, making her recall all the times she'd walked up on Ichabod doing the exact same thing. Moving to stand next to the tree, she noticed his little body tense before she slowly sat next to him. It stung her that he wouldn't look at her and it only worsened when she reached to push some fallen hair from his eyes and he leaned away, avoiding her touch. With a sigh, she whispered, "I wish I could explain everything to you, all that's happened." Still, he ignored her. "William, please look at me." She thought he would refuse, but ever so slowly his blue eyes slid to her. "You know I love you more than anything, don't you?"

He stared at her a moment before giving a small nod.

"There's not a child in the world more loved than you and your sister. William, you must know that I would never leave you unless I absolutely had to."

"You could take us with you," he pleaded, his voice coming out in a small whisper.

Her breathing faltered as she fiddled with her hands in her lap. "Where I'm going is not...it's not a place for children."

His eyes shot to her, a determined expression on his face. "I'm big enough. I can go. I'm not a little boy anymore."

She smiled, knowing her son meant every word. "No, you're not." Grasping his hand, she squeezed it gently. "You're a young man and, as a young man, I need you to stay here and protect your sister."

"But who will protect you, mama? You need me."

"I do need you," she answered quickly. "And I promise that as soon as I can, I'll be back with you again. Nothing in this world could keep me from you and Cassie." She dipped her head to catch his eyes. "Do you believe me?"

He stared at her for a moment and she could tell he wanted to argue with her further, but finally he nodded before throwing his arms around her. "Promise?"

Closing her eyes, she tightened her hold on her son. "I promise."


	40. Chapter 40

The bricks along the side of an old building were her support as she suddenly had a wave of nausea overcome her, forcing her to pause and take a deep breath.

"Miss, are you alright?"

Glancing up at the man standing a few feet away who was looking at her in concern, she nodded. "Yes, I just feel slightly ill. The effects of the voyage must still be plaguing me."

"Aye, seasickness," he said with an understanding nod. "It befalls most their first time."

She frowned in thought. It wasn't her first time to make a journey by ship and this illness hadn't bothered her at all when she'd sailed for the colonies as a girl. It was odd that it would now.

"Did you need assistance?"

With a shake of her head, she righted herself. "No, thank you, but I believe I'll be alright."

The man gave a tilt of his head before moving on. With a deep breath, Katrina pushed herself away from the building to begin making her way down the street, a destination she dreaded in mind. She'd arrived in England not an hour ago and she'd already determined her first stop. She had plans to seek out her mother's old coven as she remembered a few of their names and only hoped they still lived in the same places. As she wandered down the various streets, she took in the familiarity of them as well as the changes time had placed on them. By the time she'd reached her destination, she had been swarmed with childhood memories and found herself overcome with emotion. Sucking in a deep breath, she lifted a hand to knock on the tall door. As she waited, she heard footsteps echo on the other side of the door and braced herself as a young light haired woman answered the door with a smile. "May I help you?"

Katrina nodded with a returned smile. "Yes, I'm here to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Crane."

The woman glanced behind her. "I'm afraid Mr. Crane is out, but Mrs. Crane is here. Please come in and I will inform her of your presence. Your name?"

Katrina stepped through the door and looked about. "Perhaps, I can surprise her? It's been quite a long time since I last saw her."

With a slight frown, the woman nodded and took to the stairs. Once she was out of sight, Katrina ventured into the living area. This house had always been so mysterious to her as a girl as she'd only ever been in it one other time when Ichabod had snuck her in to show her his home after she'd begged and pleaded for days on end.

_"Please!"_

_"No, Katrina," he sighed. "If my father catches us, I'll get the thrashing of my life."_

_Hands on her hips, she stated, "He's not even home and won't be until nightfall."_

_"My mother-"_

_"Is having tea with Mrs. Jeffries," she cut in smugly, raising her chin slightly in pride at having silenced him. When he seemed to be fumbling for another excuse, she prodded, "Well?"_

_Clearly at his wit's end, he rolled his eyes and turned on his heel to begin walking toward his front door. "If we get in trouble..."_

_More excited than she'd been in recent times, she scurried behind him and took his hand to pull him along faster. "Hurry!"_

_His groan of defeat reached her ears, making her smile shine all the brighter._

"Can I help you?"

Katrina spun around, her eyes falling on Mrs. Crane, a woman who had aged considerably since Katrina had last seen her. The lines in her face were deep, making her look well beyond her age, no doubt from years of worry over her son.

"Yes," she answered, with a pleasant smile. "I'm sorry to drop by unannounced, Mrs. Crane."

With a raise of her eyebrows, the woman stepped further into the room and appraised Katrina with her eyes. "That's fine, dear, but forgive me, I'm afraid I don't recall you."

Katrina gave a nod of understanding. "It's quite alright as you haven't seen me since I was a child. My name is Katrina. I was a friend of your son when we were children."

Recognition flashed over Mrs. Crane's face as her eyes widened. "Oh, Katrina, of course." She gestured to the sofa with a newfound energy. "Please, sit."

Acquiescing, Katrina took a seat next to the woman.

"Last I saw you, you were sailing for the colonies with your father."

"I was," she confirmed with another nod.

"And what brings you back here to England? Have you returned home? Or are you visiting family?"

Katrina gave a small smile before glancing down at her hands, which were twisting nervously in her lap. "No, I'm...I'm here about Ichabod."

Mrs. Crane noticeably stiffened. "I'm sorry to inform you that my son is no longer here. He enlisted and sailed for the colonies a decade ago. I've not seen him since."

Closing her eyes, Katrina took a deep breath before meeting Mrs. Crane's gaze once more. "I know. I-" Her words faltered. "I've seen him."

The woman's eyes widened as she sat straighter. "Ichabod? You've seen Ichabod? My Ichabod?"

"Yes," she answered with a smile. "Not long after he arrived in the colonies, we encountered each other. We became friends again."

Katrina wasn't sure what the woman was thinking. As a mother she couldn't imagine going so long without seeing her children. It'd only been three months and she already desperately missed William and Cassie. The memory of their small faces pulled at her heart in ways she had no words for. The woman before her, however, was nearly as much a mystery as the house she'd long to see as a child. She hadn't the slightest idea of how the years as well as her husband had affected her thoughts concerning her son.

"Mrs. Crane?"

Mrs. Crane's eyes jerked back to her. "I'm so sorry. I just...It's been so long since..."

"I understand," she whispered sympathetically. "I have two children of my own and I can hardly stand being away from them."

Mrs. Crane smiled. "You have children?"

"Yes, twins. A boy and a girl. They're-" Covering her mouth, Katrina closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Crane. I need-"

Mrs. Crane stood and grabbed a waste basket for her right before Katrina emptied the contents of her stomach. She didn't notice Mrs. Crane's exit, but on her return she handed her a glass of water. Accepting the glass, she took a sip and wiped her mouth. "Forgive me, I-"

"Oh, it's perfectly alright, dear," the woman said, laying a hand to her arm. "I remember quite well what it was like to be with child. Ichabod kept me quite ill."

With a frown, Katrina stared at her. "No, I-" Allowing her words to die off, she considered the woman's words. Upon further thought, she felt herself begin to breathe quicker as she laid a hand over her belly. "I can't be. I was careful." She had been. They had only been together a handful of times...except the night before he faced the Horseman. They'd been so desperate to hold onto each other, to fight he inevitability of their parting.

"Katrina? I'm sorry dear, I just assumed..."

Katrina's eyes flew up as the realization washed through her. "I'm with child."

Mrs. Crane smiled at her. "Congratulations. Your husband will be pleased no doubt."

Heart beating faster, she knew she had to tell her. "Mrs. Crane, my husband...Ichabod and I, we..."

Mrs. Crane's eyes widened. "You and Ichabod? You-you married? You're children are his?" Her eyes fell to Katrina's belly. "Oh."

"Yes. My children are Ichabod's." It felt so wonderful to say that to someone. She'd had to keep it secret for so long. To finally acknowledge out loud that the beautiful creatures she'd given life to were her love's filled her with more joy than she knew how to express.

With another smile, Mrs. Crane leaned forward and grasped her necklace to hold in her palm, the sapphire a stark contrast to the woman's pale skin. "Of course. It broke his heart when you moved away." She allowed the jewel to fall back into place. "He always loved you."

"He did," she whispered, her heart in her throat.

"Your children? What are their names?"

Katrina's smile returned as she thought of her little loves. "William and Cassie. They're seven. William is the spitting image of Ichabod when he was a boy."

With another smile, Mrs. Crane gazed across the room, lost in thought. "And Ichabod? Is he here with you?"

Eyes tearing, she shook her head. "No, that's why I've come to see you." Releasing a shuttered breath, she caught the woman's eyes. "Ichabod, he...he-"

"No." Mrs. Crane's hand came up to cover her mouth. "Please..."

When the woman fell against her, Katrina startled as she brought her hands around the woman, who was now wracked with sobs. "I'm so sorry."

"Martha?" Both of them turned to the doorway to find Mr. Crane standing there, a look of confusion upon his face. "What's wrong? Who is this?"

Mrs. Crane quickly stood and briskly walked over to her husband. "You killed my son."

Katrina's eyes widened when Mrs. Crane slapped her husband right across the face. "You sent him over there to die!"

His eyes darted from Mrs. Crane to her as he reached for his wife's hands to hold her still. "What on earth are you talking about? Who is she?"

Katrina stood as Mrs. Crane jerked from him. "She's Ichabod's wife."

"His wife?" Mr. Crane looked between them again. "And what does she want?"

Katrina frowned. "I don't want anything. I thought you deserved to know about your son."

He stared back at her blankly. "I have no son. My son died the day he turned his back on all that I gave him."

Feeling her anger begin to build, Katrina took a step toward him as Mrs. Crane let out another sob at her husband's words. "Ichabod is not the one who turned his back on his family. He did what he knew to be right and you disowned him for it. You have no idea what you did to him, the pain you caused him from your lack of understanding, the cruelty of your words."

"Nor do I care," the man stated coldly.

Gazing at him sadly, she said, "Then, you are truly a lost man and as heartless as I remember you to be."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "As you remember?"

With a hint of disdain, Katrina answered, "I believe you told Ichabod I was the girl that would lead him astray."

Once again, Katrina witnessed recognition cross a face as he pointed a finger at her. "You're that little wild girl that I forbade my son to see. Katrina van Tassel."

Katrina smiled proudly. "It's Katrina Crane, Sir."

He drew himself up to his full height. "I see you've come to beg for my son's inheritance."

Mrs. Crane stepped forward. "Victor-"

"I don't want anything from you," she bit out heatedly. "I came here to inform a mother of her son's death. I know that if something happened to one of my children, I would want to know."

He bristled. "Children? Don't tell me my traitorous son polluted the earth by mixing his blood with a filthy peasant."

Unwilling to tolerate his ridicule a moment longer, Katrina brushed past them and hastily exited the house.

"Katrina, please wait!"

She stopped at the bottom of the steps, her heart in her throat before turning to the distraught woman in the doorway. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Crane."

Without another word, she walked away, putting the Crane's and all doubt behind her. She had more important things to attend to.

* * *

_Two Days Later_

She'd searched everywhere. Her mother's coven had nothing to offer her, but apologies and dead ends. None of them knew of anything to help her and Katrina felt herself beginning to lose her control. She had to find a way to help him. She had to. As she tiredly pushed the door to her room open, she startled to find Mrs. Crane standing at her window. "Mrs. Crane, what are you doing here?"

When the woman turned, she seemed nervous as she spoke. "I-my husband is not aware that I'm here." Choosing not to speak, Katrina waited for the woman to continue. "Katrina, I am sorry for his behavior. You must understand that he did love Ichabod. He simply never knew how to show it. It hurt him deeply when Ichabod turned traitor."

"Hurt him?" she asked incredulously. "Ichabod was _not_ a traitor. He was a good man who made a choice to uphold what he believed in. I will not allow him to be referred to in such a way, especially not after having witnessed the hurt that _he_ endured for his choice."

Mrs. Crane quickly shook her head. "I do not believe as my husband does about our son. I simply-"

"Went along with whatever your husband said," Katrina cut in with narrowed eyes. "No matter how much it may have hurt your only child?"

Tears filled the woman's eyes. "I loved my son with all my heart. Nothing could have changed that. Nothing and no one."

Feeling the weight of the past months begin to press upon her, Katrina lifted a hand to wipe at her eyes. "Mrs. Crane, why are you here? We've said everything that needed to be said."

"I have something for you," the woman answered as she picked up a bag from the floor. "I want you to take this. It was Ichabod's, and his wife and children should have it."

Frowning, Katrina accepted the bag before glancing into it. When she saw its contents, her eyes widened. "I will not accept this. I did not come here seeking out money, or anything else from you and your husband. As I said before, I came here for my husband and my husband alone."

Mrs. Crane touched her arm. "And I came here for my son." With a deep breath, she continued, "As a boy, he adored you. He talked of you constantly after he'd come home from a day spent in your presence. And clearly as a man, his adoration turned to love. I have no doubt of that, nor do I have any doubt of your love for him." Mrs. Crane stepped back and gestured to the bag. "Please, accept this, Katrina. If not for yourself, then for your children. I beg you to do this for me."

Katrina began to object once more, but Mrs. Crane held up her hand. "I'm leaving it here. If you refuse to take it, fine. Give it to someone who needs it. But all I ask if for you to please allow me to believe that as a mother, I did one last thing for my son and one thing for the grandchildren I'll never know."

With that, the woman gave a last smile and exited the room, leaving Katrina completely at a loss for words. Sighing, she glanced down at the bag. As Abraham's wife, she hadn't been in need of money for quite some time, but since his death, she'd felt like it was too dirty to use it for anything other than necessity. With so little knowledge of what her future held, she lifted the bag and carried it to the table. It would belong to William and Cassie. It was rightfully theirs after all.


	41. Chapter 41

As she walked up the old dirt road, she kept going over and over in her mind what she was going to say, how she was going to explain her present state, and how they were going to react. After so many years of lies, she dreaded the reactions she would receive. Ichabod had warned her they needed to know sooner rather than later, but she'd ignored his warnings. Now, she only hoped they understood, but then again, that might be asking a lot of two eight year olds.

Reaching the edge of the tree line, she came to a stop as the small cabin came into view. Her attention, however, was not on the building, but on that of her son and daughter running about the yard, playing so carefree and worriless. Cassie was presently chasing William, shouting at him as she went. As she observed them, she couldn't help but think about all the times she'd chased Ichabod about, or all the times he'd trailed after her as she was always up to some sort of mischief or another.

"Mama!"

Cassie, having caught sight of her, was now dashing toward her. Dropping to her knees as best she could, she caught her daughter as she threw herself around her. "You came back."

"Of course, I did," she answered with a relieved smile. "I told you I would."

Cassie pulled back, a frown on her small face. "You were gone a long time."

With a sigh, she reached up to push Cassie's hair back. "I was, but I'm here now, just like I promised."

"Will you leave again?"

Choosing to leave that for a later time, she glanced past Cassie, but found that William was nowhere in sight. "Cassie, where's your brother?"

Her daughter turned to look to the place he'd previously been. "He was just there," she answered with a shrug. "He must have gone inside with Thomas."

Nodding, she pushed herself back to her feet with a bit of effort. "We should find him."

"Mama?"

At the sight of her daughter's confused face, she followed her stare to her swollen belly and said softly, "I'll explain inside, alright?"

Cassie gave her belly another odd glance before nodding and accepting her offered hand. Upon reaching the cabin's door, Cassie shoved it right open and entered, pulling her along behind her excitedly. "Thomas! Mama's back!"

Thomas stood from the table with a shocked expression. "You're here." Quickly, he stepped around the table and approached her before wrapping her in a hug. "Thank God, you're safe."

More relief than she cared to show escaped her as she gave herself over to the embrace, the first she'd had in months.

"What's this?" he asked as he pulled back and glanced down her curiously.

"Ichabod," she whispered, bringing a hand to her belly. "His last gift to me."

"That's wonderful," Thomas exclaimed before his smile dimmed. "Did you...?"

Unable to give response to the words he failed to produce, she shook her head and looked about the room. Talking about her failure in finding a way to save her husband wasn't something she could handle at this moment. "Where's William?"

Thomas pointed behind him. "He came in a minute ago and ran straight to his room without a word. He, uh, he seemed a little upset."

With a frown, she reclaimed Cassie's hand and made her way to the door. To say she was nervous would be putting it very lightly as she wasn't sure she'd ever been so worried over a reaction in all her life. It was becoming increasingly clear that he wasn't happy to see her and that was going to make matters much more difficult when she began explaining the things she knew it was time for them to know.

"Mama?"

Glancing down at her daughter, she realized Cassie was waiting for her to open the door, but she hadn't quite brought herself to do it yet. The idea that William was upset with her had her paralyzed. If he was already angry with her, how could this conversation go any other way, but horribly?

"Are we going inside?"

The best smile she could muster came to her face as she nodded and turned the knob. Upon stepping into the room, she noticed William was sitting in the window seat, his gaze planted firmly out the window. He didn't acknowledge their entrance, which only furthered her worry.

"William, look, mama's here."

Her son gave a small shrug, but didn't turn or give any further response. Worry building, she released a heavy breath as she walked across the room, bringing Cassie with her.

"William," she began softly only to be cut off.

"I don't want to talk to you."

His small voice was entirely too pitiful to bear. With a bit of effort, she knelt to the floor and reached to touch his face, but he turned further away from her.

"William, please," she begged. "I need to see your face...Please."

"You didn't come back," he whispered lowly, his gaze still out the window.

A quick look to his hands found them clenched together as if he were attempting to contain himself. It was such a very Ichabod like mannerism that it tore her heart further apart. "I'm here," she said, reaching to touch his hand, thankful he didn't pull away. "I'm sorry it took me so long, but I've come back and I have no intention of ever leaving you again."

Hesitantly, his blue eyes came to hers, a slight hope in them. "Promise?"

Giving him the brightest smile she could muster, she brushed a hand through his dark hair. "I promise, my sweet boy. Whatever happens from now on, we will face it together."

And just like that, his arms were around her neck as he buried his head in her hair. "Don't leave me again, mama. Please."

Eyes falling closed at her son's whimper, she tightened her hold around him as she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

After a moment, a hand on her face brought her eyes open to find Cassie staring at her. "Mama? Are you having a baby?"

William pulled back quickly to look at her in confusion.

With another smile and a very hard swallow, she nodded. "Yes, you're going to have a little brother or sister very soon."

To her surprise, Cassie's face lit up. "How soon?"

Chuckling at her daughter's glee, she attempted to push herself up, but it required William's help to achieve the task which was more than a small struggle. When she was on her feet, she turned and sat in the window seat before gesturing for them to sit on each side of her. "A couple of weeks."

"Really?" Cassie asked excitedly.

She couldn't help but smile at her daughter's face. It was so full of joy and she found her own joy seeping into her as if it were contagious. "Yes."

"Why?"

Gaze darting to her son, she frowned at his confused face. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged offhandedly. "Why are you having another baby?"

At a loss for words, her eyes fell to her hands as she held William's, her fingers smoothing over his. "Well...when two people love each other very much, their love sometimes makes a baby."

"But father's dead," whispered her son. "And...you didn't love him."

Unable to contain the slight widening of her eyes, she glanced back to her son who seemed deep in thought. "No, I...I didn't love him..."

William's blue eyes met hers and she felt her heart constrict. He looked so much like Ichabod. "Mama?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" she asked tentatively. She wasn't sure what he was going to say now, but it definitely wasn't anywhere near the vicinity of the three words that tumbled from his mouth.

"You love Ichabod."

Heart in her throat, she asked, "How do you know that, William?"

Cassie giggled on her other side. "Because he loves you, silly."

"And he made you laugh," added William softly.

"Oh," she whispered, doing her best to sort through her thoughts. She'd thought she'd have to explain in great detail what was happening. The fact that they'd already ferreted out some of the truth was dumfounding her. Had she and Ichabod been that obvious? "Yes, he did."

"Are you going to marry, Ichabod, mama?"

With a small smile at her daughter, she answered honestly, "I already did."

"You did?" Cassie squealed, jumping up to sit on her knees and get closer to her face. "Is he coming to live with us?"

"I hope so," she said, taking in her daughter's happy face before turning to William, who had been too quiet. "Are you alright, William?"

His blue eyes jerked from her belly to meet her gaze. "Will you love Ichabod's baby more than us?"

Sucking in a breath at her son's worried question, she quickly shook her head. "Of course not, William. Ichabod..." She took a deep breath. "I have something very important to tell the both of you."

"What is it, mama?" Cassie asked, prompting her to turn back to her and find her still up on her knees. Touching Cassie's cheek, she considered just how much she'd missed her daughter's over excited nature.

"Well," she began, attempting to find the words. "When I was very little and I lived in England, I had a friend that I spent every day with."

"Really?"

Meeting her daughter's eyes, she nodded. "Yes, he was my best friend and...I loved him."

"What happened to him, mama?" Cassie asked, clearly riveted by her new story.

"I moved here, to the colonies, and he remained there." Her fingers wrapped around the blue jewel that was hanging around her neck. "But then, when we were both older...we found each other here and we became friends again."

"You did?" Cassie's excitement was visible in her bouncing beside her.

"We did," she answered with a smile, her thoughts venturing back to those moments she'd shared with him in those first days. "We fell in love all over again and..." She took a deep breath before pulling Cassie over to sit beside William so she could see them both. "Ichabod was my friend."

Cassie's eyes widened slightly. "You're the little girl?"

Frowning, she stared at her daughter in confusion. "What girl?"

"The one Ichabod told us about in his story," Cassie explained. "The red headed girl who got him into trouble all the time."

Chuckling, she caught both of their hands in her own. "Yes, I did get him into quite a bit of trouble. I've always had that habit." And still did apparently considering his present circumstances.

"Why didn't you tell us?" William asked.

"Well, Ichabod is a really important person and...you know who I am. You know how important it is for us to keep secrets, sometimes even secrets we don't want to keep." Gently squeezing their small hands, she glanced between them as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "My loves, I'm afraid I've kept a very big secret from you."

William's face turned into a frown. "What kind of secret?"

Unable to take the innocence in his eyes, her gaze fell back to their hands. "One that I'm afraid you'll be very angry with me for keeping." Nervously wetting her lips, she released a shaky breath, "I-" Returning her gaze back to their blue eyes, she found her strength waning as they looked to her with innocence and trust. "Ichabod was- _is_ your father."

Silence greeted her as an array of emotions flickered over their matching eyes, confusion being the dominant one. It was Cassie who finally spoke.

"Ichabod's our father?"

Giving what she hoped was a reassuring smile, she nodded. "Yes, Cassie. He's your father."

"Our real father?" Cassie's confusion was beginning to lift as she seemed to be working out her thoughts before slight excitement replaced her frown. "When's he coming to see us?"

"Well," she began, darting a glance at William who was staring at their hands in silence. "He's under a spell and is sleeping. That's where I've been. I've been trying to find a way to wake him without hurting him."

"Oh," came Cassie's soft reply. "Did you find one?"

Eyes falling to her hands, she shook her head as her failure once again crept over her. "No...I didn't. I'm afraid I've run out of ideas on how to help him."

A knock came at the door, pulling all three of their attentions. When Thomas poked his head in, he gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to let you know that dinner is ready."

"Thank you, Thomas," she whispered, before he quietly closed the door behind him. Turning back to her children, who were looking at her expectantly, she sighed. "Why don't we go eat and we'll talk some more later, alright?"

"Alright," came Cassie's disappointed answer before she jumped up and made her way from the room.

William, on the other hand, lingered back with her, his blue eyes staring at her in concern. Lifting a hand to brush back his long hair from his eyes, she whispered, "What's wrong, my sweet boy?"

He shrugged, his eyes falling to his hands that were twisting in his lap. "I wished for Ichabod to be my father."

A smile tugged at her mouth. "I suppose sometimes wishes come true." Leaning down to catch his eyes, she asked, "Why don't you seem very happy?"

The heavy sigh that left him made him seem like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, another of Ichabod's traits. "He told me he loved me when he left, but...I didn't say it back."

Eyes dancing over her son's small face, which gave way to the fact that he was on the verge of tears, she whispered, "He knew you did."

"You promise?" he asked, his small chest sucking in a sharp breath as he fought against the clear sob that was stuck in his throat.

"I promise."

In response, he leaned into her, his arms reaching around her neck and tangling in her hair. "I love you, mama."

Arms wrapping around him, her eyes fell closed as she kissed the side of his head and whispered, "I love you, too, my sweet boy."


	42. Chapter 42

Terror.

There is nothing more terrifying than knowing your children are in danger. That was the feeling coursing through her as she clutched their hands in her own, her eyes darting all about for any signs of danger.

"Mama?"

Glancing down at Cassie, who was looking up at her in fear, she shook her head with a tight smile. "It's going to be alright."

Gaze returning to her surroundings, she contemplated the lie she'd just uttered to her daughter. Everything wasn't going to be alright. Every fiber of her being was on edge as she took a breath and peeked around the corner of the building they were huddled against. Not twenty minutes ago, Thomas had brought news of her worst nightmare coming to life.

_"Katrina!"_

_Jerking her gaze up to her friend as he burst through the front door of the cabin, she took in his panicked expression. Abruptly standing, well as abrupt as she could manage in her state, she asked, "What is it, Thomas?"_

_"Town." He bent over to rest his hands on his thighs as he attempted to catch his breath. "Coven."_

_Breath leaving her, she immediately turned to make her way to the bedroom where William and Cassie rested as Thomas called after her, "I'll get your things."_

_Pushing the door open, she quickly made her way over the bed where she touched William's face and waited for his eyes to sleepily open and find hers. "Mama?"_

_Giving the most reassuring smile she could, she whispered, "I need you to wake your sister and dress. We have to go."_ _As he sat up and wiped at his eyes, she urged, "Quickly, William."_

_She wasn't sure if it was the tone of her voice, or the panic in her eyes, but he gave a firm nod before turning to shake Cassie awake. Feeling that was handled, she moved into the other room where Thomas was hurriedly throwing food in a bag. "Where will we go?"_

_She shook her head. "I'm not sure. I-" Bringing a hand to her eyes, she continued, "I don't know how far I can get like this. I thought we would be safe until the baby came." Panic was beginning to take her over. "I can't breathe."_

_Thomas quickly moved around the table and took her by the shoulders. "It's going to be ok, Katrina. We'll think of something, but let's just get out of here first."_

_Nodding, she turned when she heard Cassie's small voice. "Mama?"_

_They were standing just outside the door, their small clothes looking thrown on half hazardly. Quickly moving to them, she pulled Cassie's coat from her hand and began helping her into it. "Some people are coming for us," she explained seriously. "We have to leave this place."_

_William asked, "What people, mama?"_

_"My coven. They want me to tell them where your father is, but I can't do that."_

_"Why? Do they want to hurt father?"_

_Eyes on her daughter, who was looking at her in fear as she buttoned up her coat, she nodded. "Yes, Cassie. They want to hurt Ichabod, but we're not going to let them, alright?"_

_"Ok, mama."_

_"Good," she said, pushing herself up with effort. "Grab only what you need. Quickly."_

_They both turned and ran back into the room while she moved back to Thomas who was holding a bag close to the door. She opened her mouth to say something when she felt it. A tug at her senses. "They're close." Her eyes met Thomas'. "If I can feel them, then, they can feel me."_

_Thomas nodded and handed her the bag. "We have to go."_

_He turned to the door as the twins came running from the room. "Let's go."_

_She waited for Cassie to take her hand as William ran ahead with Thomas. In moments, they were immersed in the thick trees surrounding the cabin. "We should head for town," she said as she did her best to even out her breathing._

_Thomas looked back at her in disbelief. "But that's where they were. You want to go directly to them?"_

_Shaking her head, she answered, "The more people we're around, the harder it will be for them to sense us. We have to go through town to get where I want to go, anyway."_

_"And where is that?"_

_"A safe haven for those in need," she answered before doubling over in pain. "Fredrick's Manor. It'll take half the night to reach it."_

_"Mama?" came William's concerned voice as he reached for her. "What's wrong?"_

_Sucking in the deepest breath she could manage, she whispered, "It's nothing sweetheart. I'm alright."_

_His small face scrunched up into a frown. "No, it's not. You're hurting."_

_As she laid a hand to his worried face, she said, "Just stay close to me and keep your sister's hand in yours. Do you understand?"_

_Blue eyes darting over her face, he nodded, though clearly with a great deal of hesitation. With another deep breath, she turned back to Thomas who was looking at her knowingly. "We have to get you somewhere quickly, Katrina. You can't keep running in your condition."_

_"I'll be fine," she assured, even as another pain shot through her, forcing her to hold back a scream._

_"Katrina," Thomas grunted as he caught her before she collapsed._

_"I can't," she gasped into his shirt. "I can't go on."_

_"Tell me what to do."_

_Pulling back, she caught his eyes. "Take them and go."_

_He opened his mouth, but it was William who answered, "No, mama! You promised."_

_Eyes falling to her son who was staring at her defiantly, she began, "William-"_

_"You promised we would stay together," he said forcefully. "You can't leave us. I won't let you."_

_Thomas held onto her as she reached for William's face. "I'm slowing you down. If we stay together, we'll all be caught." She glanced to Cassie who was looking around in fear. "You have to protect your sister."_

_Cassie jerked her eyes to her, a certain fierceness suddenly present in them. "I can protect myself, mama."_

_For a moment, she stared at them before nodding. "Alright. We stay together."_

_They both gave a sigh of relief, which only furthered her pain. They shouldn't be out here, on the run, fearing for their lives._

_"I'll go."_

_Whirling to face Thomas, she said, "No."_

_He shook his head as he began taking the bag from his back. "You need a distraction to slip away unnoticed."_

_"Thomas-"_

_"Take this, William," he said, helping William slip the bag over his shoulders before turning back to her. "I'll make my way back to the cabin and draw attention to it."_

_"You can't do this," she whispered. "I can't let you do this. They won't let you go, not with what's at stake in their minds."_

_He looked at her with a determined expression. "If I don't do this, we're all caught. You have a family to protect, Katrina." His eyes fell to William and Cassie. "And I have a promise to my friend to keep."_

_She stared at him for a long moment before pulling him back to her for a hug. "Thank you."_

_He nodded. "Go."_

_With a deep breath, she turned and took William's hand before glancing back to her friend. "Be safe, Thomas."_

"Mama," came Cassie's voice, pulling her gaze back to her children. "Are we almost there?"

Taking a deep breath, she attempted to steady her nerves, even as her body felt as though it were ripping apart. "Yes," she whispered, taking in their exhausted faces. "It's just a little further."

They'd been traveling for hours and she wasn't sure she was going to make it to their destination before she collapsed in exhaustion. That combined with worry for the baby, who was making it known it was ready to come, had her panic building. Finally seeing the house come into sight, she pulled William to her. "Go find help."

Her son never hesitated as he bolted toward the large house, his short legs carrying him at a quick pace.

"Mama," Cassie said worriedly as she attempted to support her weight when her legs began to give out. "Please don't fall."

Doing her best not to topple over her daughter, she stopped and took a deep breath.

"Oh, Katrina," came Lachlan's voice as he and Grace rushed toward her, William trailing behind them. When they reached her, they each took up a side of her.

"My baby's coming."

Grace nodded. "We're going to take care of you and your baby, Katrina. You're safe now."

"My children," she trailed off, attempting to glance behind her to catch sight of them.

Lachlan took her weight as Grace turned behind them. "Come now, children. Let's get you inside by the fire while we help your mother."

As they made their way up the steps, she heard William voicing a protest to being separated from her and then he was running in front of her. "I'm staying with you, mama."

Forcing herself to maintain eye contact with him, she whispered, "Stay with Cassie."

"No," he said defiantly, his small form going rigid. "I'm not leaving you. Not ever."

Unable to conjure the strength to fight him, she nodded with a tight smile.

"We can't linger any longer," Grace urged with a tough to her arm. "We must get you arranged."

Lachlan began leading her up the stairs as her son stayed ahead of them, watching her every step.


	43. Chapter 43

In all her 32 years, Katrina was sure she'd never felt quite the way she was feeling at this moment. Yes, she'd given birth before, to twins no less, but this time felt significantly different for reasons she couldn't quite put her finger on. Perhaps it was the strenuous journey through the forest in the middle of the night while in labor as compared to lying in an expensive bed with midwives swarming her and attempting to provide every comfort. Then again, this time might just be worse because a matching set of blue eyes were staring down at her in worry as she writhed in the sheets as compared to Abraham's useless pacing in the hallway asking when it would be over as if her giving birth to what he had thought was his child was an inconvenience.

"Mama? Are you dying?"

Before she could address Cassie's small, yet panicked question, William glared over at her. "She's not dying, Cassie."

Lifting a hand to her daughter's worry riddled face, she whispered, "Mama's going to be fine, sweetheart. Your little brother or sister is just trying to come meet you a little soon."

Her daughter didn't look overly convinced as she darted a concerned glance at her belly. "I'm scared."

With a shaky breath, she shook her head and pushed a few red curls behind Cassie's ear. "Perhaps, you should have Mrs. Dixon take you downstairs? I'll be fine here. I promise."

"No," William bit out unexpectedly as his hand shot out to his sister's in an effort to hold her still. "We're staying here."

It was the way her son said it that left little room for argument and for a moment she actually found herself taken aback at the intensity with which he spoke. His steely blue eyes were serious, making him seem like all the things that made him a little boy were somehow slipping away. That, more than anything else, pained her. She was stealing away his childhood with her choices.

Cassie gave a hesitant nod of agreement to which William accepted by letting her hand go and returning his attention to her own hand, his small fingers wrapping around hers with a light pressure. "I'm never leaving you, mama."

Overcome with the urge to weep, she forced a smile to her face. "My sweet William," she whispered. "I remember when I brought the two of you into the world."

"Did we hurt you like this baby, Mama?" asked Cassie softly, though with that same curiosity she always seemed to have.

A slightly strangled chuckle came from her as she answered, "It was quite difficult, my little loves, but the result was worth every moment of pain I endured." Squeezing William's hand, she smiled, "I was so happy when I finally held you in my arms." She looked to Cassie. "Both of you. I'll never forget the joy I felt."

Suddenly the pain became too much to endure and she arched her back from the bed.

"Mama," Cassie said worriedly, laying a small hand to her cheek. "What's wrong?"

Panting for breath, she grit her teeth. "Grace."

Her friend rushed forward and looked her over before turning to another woman. "Her pain is rising. She's close now. The child is coming."

William's fingers tightened around hers as his eyes followed Grace. However, as the pain grew to a new level, she slammed her eyes shut and allowed her fears to take her over. "I can't. It's not safe for us. They're going to come."

"You and your children are safe," Grace said. "All you need do is bring this life into our world."

"I can't do it," she cried, the one thing she wanted more than anything in the world falling from her lips. "Not without Ichabod. I need Ichabod."

"Look at me, Katrina," Grace urged, placing a damp cloth to her face. "You have to, for your sake and the child."

Turning her head into the pillows, she attempted to bite back a scream, but found it useless as it made its way out of her anyway.

"Make it stop," Cassie yelled in Grace's direction. "You're supposed to help her! It's killing her!"

Gaze on her panicked daughter, she shook her head. "Cassie..." She gripped the sheets in an attempt to divert her pain and catch her breath. "It's going to be alright."

"No, it's not," Cassie whimpered. "It's not going to be alright. I want to go home."

"Stop it, Cassie!" William shouted angrily. "We have to be strong."

"William..." she began, but was forced to stop as her eyes once again slammed shut and she dug her head back into the pillows as she arched her shoulders.

"It's time," Grace said from her position at the end of the bed, seemingly the only calm one in the room.

Her body was so riddled with pain that she wasn't actually sure she was going to make it as she had promised her daughter.

"Breathe, Katrina," Grace urged.

Sucking in the best breath she could manage, she nodded.

"That's it, you're doing beautifully," Grace said encouragingly. "Now push."

The next few minutes were the absolute worst she was sure she'd ever experienced. Between the pain, Grace's shouting, and Cassie's whimpers, she felt her emotions spiraling to the point she was sure she was losing her sanity, but then she heard it; a piercing scream. She was only able to catch a glimpse of Grace wrapping a blanket around her baby before she had to collapse back against the bed, desperate for air to fill her aching lungs.

"What is it?" she heard Cassie ask, her previous panic now replaced with that burning curiosity she always bore.

Grace's chuckle met her ears, prompting her to open her eyes and push herself up with William's help.

"Mrs. Crane, it's a boy."

"I have a son?" she asked, a soft laugh escaping her as Grace leaned down to place her baby in her arms. Gently accepting him, she whispered, "I have a son."

Eyes dancing over his small face in wonder, she couldn't help the smile that was coming very near to splitting her face. He was so beautiful. His dark hair stood out against his pale skin, what she thought was a beautiful combination, but that wasn't what caught her attention the most. It was his piercing blue eyes, the exact shade of Ichabod, William, and Cassie's, that was so heart stopping.

"He's pretty," Cassie said softly from her side as she leaned close in an attempt to gain a closer look at her new sibling.

Gaze reluctantly pulling from the baby, she turned to Cassie with a bright smile. "He's beautiful."

Cassie nodded in agreement, her eyes trained on her still whimpering brother. "He looks like William."

Speaking of William, his small voice drew her gaze next. "What's his name?"

Her son's small face was serious, not an ounce of joy, worry, or any other emotion giving way to what he was feeling. Taken slightly aback at his countenance, she answered, "Well, I've thought about it and...Cassie is named after my sister and you after my grandfather. So, I thought we should name him in honor of a member of your father's family." Eyes back on her new son, she smiled as his small hand touched her face as he squirmed in her arms. "Jeremy Crane, after Ichabod's grandfather. Your father loved him dearly."

"Jeremy?" Cassie asked curiously, then added a moment later, "I like it. Though, I wish he was a sister."

Laughing at her daughter's disgruntled tone, she whispered, "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Cassie's fingers stroked Jeremy's arm. "He's so soft."

The door to the room opened, revealing Lachlan, who smiled as he approached the bed. "I hear we've been graced with a new, young warlock."

Holding Jeremy close, her body shook with her laugh. "We have."

Lachlan opened his mouth to say something else when the window across the room gave a cracking sound as a something suddenly began ramming into it. When she caught sight of what it was, her eyes widened. A swarm of crows were flying into the window in an attempt to break through.

Lachlan rushed to the window followed closely by William, who had jumped from the bed. "William," she called, which he ignored as he peered through the window's cracks. "Lachlan, what's going on?"

"They've broken through the protections." He looked back out the window before rushing to Grace. "Take them now. Use my personal carriage. Go."

With that order, he exited the room, leaving her with her children and Grace. "Grace, what's happening?"

Grace raced to the bed, her robe in hand. "Something has found a way through the protections."

"The coven?"

"I'm not sure," Grace answered as she signaled her to put the robe on. "Quickly."

Panic bubbling in her chest, she looked to William, who was standing beside Grace, his body rigid as he waited. "Take your brother for me, sweetheart."

Mild concern passed over his face before it disappeared and he held his arms out. "I don't know how, mama."

"Gently," she whispered as she slid Jeremy into his arms. "Make sure to support his head."

William adjusted his arms. "Like this, mama?"

Nodding, she looked to Grace, who helped her slip into her robe; a task, as every movement felt as though her body was nearly about to fall to pieces.

"Follow me," Grace urged as she grabbed a lantern from the bedside and led them to the other side of the room where she pushed at the wall. To her surprise, it gave in, an opening greeting them.

Reaching for Cassie's hand, she tugged her daughter behind her and pointed for William to walk ahead of her. "Stay behind Grace, William. Don't lose sight of her."

William hesitated for a moment, clearly torn about being more than a foot away from her. "I'm right behind you," she assured.

He gave a small nod, sending a generous amount of relief through her as she followed him. It was dark in the tunnel, save for the light of Grace's lantern ahead of her.

"It's scary down here, mama," Cassie whispered as she clutched at her hand.

"I know, sweetheart."

They continued through the walls and down a couple of stair cases, which were torture for her as she thought every step might be her last. When they reached what appeared to be the cellar, Grace led them across the room and pulled open another unexpected door in the wall. With a wave, she gestured that they walk through ahead of her. Touching William's back, she guided him through. The door led outside to revel the night to their eyes as they adjusted to accommodate the moonlight.

"Here," Grace whispered as she held the carriage door open.

With effort, she climbed inside and collapsed into the seat. Cassie took the place next to her while Grace lifted Jeremy from William and handed him to her. When he was securely in her arms, she looked to William. "Hurry inside, William."

Her son, however, shook his head. "I'm riding with Grace."

Fixing him with a stern expression, she pointed to the seat across from her. "This isn't up for debate, William. Inside. _Now_."

"I have stay out here to protect you!" he bit at her, not waiting another minute to slam the door shut and climb up front with Grace.

The carriage gave a jolt as Grace ushered the horses on. Eyes falling closed, she sucked in a deep breath. Over the last few hours, William had given a significant shift in his mood, one she hadn't caught onto as much until now. Her son's need to remain with and protect her was truthfully beginning to frighten her. He'd taken on the responsibility too seriously and with the knowledge of his powers bubbling beneath the surface of his angry outbursts, her concern was growing for him. The moment she found enough security in safety, she determined herself to speak with him privately. If she didn't do so soon, she was afraid of the consequences of what that might mean.

"What's going to happen to us, mama?"

Gaze finding her daughter, she forced a smile. "We're going to be alright, Cassie. Grace is going to take us somewhere safe."

"But wasn't Fredrick's Manor supposed to be safe? That's what you said. That's why Thomas left us."

Thomas. A pain shot through her as she considered her friend; one she honestly hadn't given another thought to since arriving at the manor. "I don't know what's going to happen, Cassie," she whispered as her eyes fell to her finally quiet son. "But so long as our family stays together, we're going to be alright."

"What if they find us? Are you going to tell them where father is?"

Biting back a building sob, she shook her head as she realized she didn't have an answer. Nothing could make her give Ichabod up to them; nothing except the three souls she cherished more than anything. If it came down to a choice, she wasn't sure what would happen, but she did know that she couldn't let any of them go.

With a last grasp at hope, one she knew could only last her so much longer, she whispered, "We're going to be alright. We are _all_ going to be alright."


	44. Chapter 44

There was a certain calmness that came with holding a baby. She'd always felt it in the past when she would deliver them for expecting mothers. In the middle of so much shouting, crying, and what she could only describe as ordered chaos, the moment those little screams filled the room, it was like waves of peace washed over her. Every new life had always been so precious, held so much promise. Not only that, but the little ones that rested in her arms were so fragile, in so much need of protecting.

Now, holding her own precious baby boy filled her with that same peace. He was so beautiful. Her little Jeremy Crane. As she stared down at him while he suckled softly at her breast, she gently slid her fingers over his smaller ones, taking in the softness of his skin. When she'd first laid eyes on him, she'd thought he looked so much like William. However, once she'd had a moment to really look at him, she found him to actually be quite his own little person. William held so few of her features, but Jeremy to her delight, did. With Ichabod's eyes and hair standing out so prominently, she'd missed the features he shared with her. His pale skin was most certainly closer to her complexion as was his tiny nose. While he had the color of Ichabod's eyes, the shape belonged to her. Where Ichabod's face was longer and more thin, Jeremy's was rounder, indicating his kinship with her. To put it simply, he was the perfect combination of them both and judging from his moments of calm staring to sudden, outright screaming, she imagined his personality would be as well.

"Mama?"

Eyes leaving her nursing infant, she found Cassie in the doorway. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"William won't play with me."

Sighing, she adjusted Jeremy. "Cassie, William's probably just tired. We had a long night." Cassie shifted her feet, seemingly struggling with something. "What is it, Cassie?"

Her daughter's blue eyes slid up to hers hesitantly. "He's outside."

Taking a deep breath, she said, "I told both of you to stay indoors."

"I told him that, mama, but he said to go away because he had to concentrate."

Eyes narrowing in confusion, she asked, "Concentrate on what?"

"To make sure no one's coming for us," Cassie whispered softly. "He said he has to protect us."

With a heavy sigh, her gaze fell back to her baby as she adjusted her dress and stood. "Come here, Cassie, and sit."

When her daughter was sitting in her vacated rocking chair, she eased Jeremy down into her small arms. "Make sure to hold him like I showed you before."

As Cassie made herself comfortable and held Jeremy close, she glanced up with a smile. "Like this, mama?"

"Just like that," she whispered, before placing a kiss to Cassie's head and pushing her hair back. "You're a wonderful older sister." Cassie smiled proudly, prompting her to chuckle. "Now, don't try to get up with him. I'll be back soon."

Making her way through the small shack they had taken shelter in for the night while Grace went ahead to check for danger, she headed for the door. Upon pushing it open and stepping into the afternoon light, she searched the trees for her eldest son, but not seeing him straight away brought a frown to her face.

"William?"

No answer. Venturing further away from the building, she stepped into the trees, her eyes darting all around. Then, to her relief, she saw his legs hanging from an oak tree a few yards ahead of her.

"William?"

His blue eyes jerked to her, a startled look that soon melted into sternness greeting her. "What are you doing? You should be resting."

Taken slightly aback at the fierce response from her near to nine year old son, she took a moment before responding. "I want you down from there immediately, William."

Without hesitation, he shook his head and lifted his feet higher to rest on the branch so she couldn't even touch him if she tried.

"William," she breathed tiredly. "Get down."

His gaze left her as he stared out into the trees. "I have to stay here."

Already knowing the answer, but wanting him to admit it anyway, she asked, "Why?"

"To protect you," he said immediately. "And Cassie and Jeremy, too. I have to make sure nothing happens to you."

Pursing her lips and nodding, she leaned against the tree, her eyes, too, on the trees ahead. What could she really say to him? He was too young? Too weak? It wasn't his place? No. She couldn't say those things. However, his strong need to protect his family did fill her with the pride she couldn't help but feel. Her son was such a giving soul. Since he was a small boy, he'd exhibited such a soft personality. Never one to seek out attention, he was more content to sit and listen rather than voice his thoughts. She had always known that one day he would grow to be a very wise man because of such qualities as the ones he held within himself. That didn't stop her worry, though. He was so easy going that she feared he would be susceptible to others taking advantage of his compassion and kindness. If he didn't stand up for himself, he would be more likely to be walked over and used. However, the last few days had shown her that when the time called for it, William would stand for his beliefs. That knowledge left her with an overwhelming sense of pride in her son at the same time that it caused her worry for him to spike.

"I'm proud of you, William."

For a moment, he gave no reply, but then his small voice reached her ears. "I'm only doing what you asked, mama."

With a frown, she glanced up at him only to find he'd pulled out the small pistol Ichabod had carved for him what seemed so long ago. "What do you mean?"

"You said I was a young man and that I had to protect, Cassie." He clutched the pistol. "And you said that you needed me."

Thoughts turning to the night he was speaking of, the one where she'd left him and Cassie in Thomas' care, she sighed. She hadn't realized William had taken her words to heart so much. As a little boy losing everything, she supposed her words were all he'd had at the time. "And you did that. You protected her just as I knew you would."

His gaze turned down to her and she felt her heart constrict at the tears streaming down his cheeks. "You don't need me anymore."

Shaking her head, she answered, her own tears building, "I'll always need you, my sweet William."

"But you don't want my help," he returned hotly. "You want me to be a little boy and I'm not a little boy."

"William," she said slowly. "I would not have survived without you. You saved me when I needed your help getting to Fredrick's Manor. You kept an eye on your sister as you guided us through those dark woods. You ran ahead and found us help." Giving him the best smile she could muster, she continued, "Even though I'm sure you were scared, you remained brave and stayed with me while I brought your brother into the world. You carried him to safety when we were in danger and now you're out here..." She gestured to the woods. "Keeping guard over your family." Wiping at her face to attempt hiding her tears, she went on, "I know what I said to you before and I meant it, but sweetheart, you are a little boy."

He began shaking his head, but she didn't let that stop her. "Yes, you are. You're a little boy who has taken on the responsibility of a grown man and you have succeeded in doing far more than what most men three times your age can do." Pushing herself on, she said, "You should be in school, or learning about animals. You should be running from pretty girls, not out here, exhausting yourself over keeping us safe."

His small body shook with a sob. "I'm tired, mama."

Nodding through her tears, which were now falling freely, she held out her arms. "Come here, my sweet boy."

With that offer, he jumped from the tree before darting into her arms. Sliding to her knees in front of him, she pulled him close and placed a kiss to his hair. "I love you so much and I'm so proud of you."

His tears wet her neck as he pressed tightly into her. "I love you, too."

Sucking in a deep breath, she pulled back from him to catch his eyes. "We're going to go inside and you are going to get some sleep because it's been more than a day since you last got any rest."

"But mama-" he began, prompting her to lay her finger to his lips.

"William, if you don't rest and danger comes, you'll be too tired to get away. We're safe here for now. I promise."

He gave a heavy sigh before nodding.

Stroking her fingers through his dark hair, she smiled. "When you wake up, I'm going to show you and Cassie some things that will help you if you ever have need of them."

"Like what, mama?"

Pushing herself up, with William's help as she was still rather weak, she began leading him back toward the shack. "You'll see."

* * *

"I can eat these?"

Looking to see what Cassie was holding, she nodded. "Yes. Clovers are a kind of plant you can find just about anywhere in grassy areas. Try it."

As Cassie hesitantly placed the green plant into her mouth and chewed, she laughed. "Can Jeremy eat one?"

Gaze dropping to her wide eyed infant, she shook her head. "No, not yet, but soon enough."

"I found some, mama," came William's voice from behind her.

Turning to her approaching son, she smiled. "Yes, you did."

"We eat those?" Cassie asked in doubt. "But they're pretty and they fly when you blow on them."

William placed the dandelion in her hand. "Well, if you're ever lost in the woods and hungry, they're going to be extra pretty."

"Which part do we eat?" William asked in excitement. Since he'd woken up, he'd been more happy than she'd seen him in a long time. It filled her heart with joy to see him taking part in this lesson. In truth, she was teaching them these things as a pre-emptive measure for the coming weeks. With them all out and alone on the run, they needed to know how to survive. They'd already been over how to make fires, but that was pretty pointless other than to amaze them with the technique as they could just wave their hands to start one.

"The whole thing," she answered. "Its roots, leaves, and flower are all edible. It is better if you boil the roots and leaves first, but the upside is that the boiled water can be used as a tea."

Cassie's eyes widened. "Really? I like tea."

Chuckling, she nodded. "Me too."

William reached for Jeremy. "But what will Jeremy eat, mama?"

Seeing the mild concern on her son's face, she smiled. "Not much. See," she said, parting Jeremy's lips with her finger which he tried to suck on. "He doesn't have any teeth, so he can't chew."

"What will he do?"

"Well," she said, reaching behind her for the apple she'd picked earlier and sliced it into pieces. "He doesn't need much, but all the fruits and some of the different plants I've shown you will suffice him for a time. Just squeeze the juices into his mouth carefully so he doesn't choke."

"Like this," William asked as he held the slice of apple over Jeremy's mouth and squeezed, the juices dropping down into his mouth and on his chin.

With a smile, she nodded. "Exactly like that, but don't give him any more. He really shouldn't have that, now. It's just that I want you to know how to do it if you ever need to."

William nodded before popping the rest of the apple into his mouth with a grin.

"Mama?"

Eyes on Cassie, she took in her daughter's confused face. "Why wouldn't Jeremy just be able to eat what he always does?"

Sighing, she shrugged. "I just want to know that you can take care of yourself and your brother if the time calls for it."

"Because something's going to happen to you?"

Momentarily at a loss for words, she stared at her daughter. "I truly hope we're never separated again, Cassie, but...tomorrow is a mystery we cannot know. We must be prepared for any outcome we can think of."

Her daughter gave a small nod as her spirit obviously became downcast. Not wanting the mood to become soured with uncertainty, she clapped her hands. "How about we practice some magic, now?"

"Really?" Cassie asked perking up. "I like using my magic. It makes me feel...I don't know the word."

"Light?" she offered, eyebrows raised. "And perhaps warm?"

Cassie nodded with William quickly following with a question of his own. "Does father have magic?"

With a sad smile, she shook her head. "No, it's just us."

"Because we're special," Cassie added excitedly.

"You father's special, too," she was quick to explain. "He's just a different kind of special."

"What do you mean? How is he special if he doesn't have magic?"

He daughter's curiosity never failed to make her chuckle. "Well, there are all sorts of different beings in the world. Your father might be human, but he has a purpose that makes him extremely special, even more so than us."

"Is that why the bad people want him?"

As she tried to find the words to explain, she glanced to Jeremy, who was fast asleep in William's arms, his small fingers clutching his brother's shirt. "They're not bad people. They're just trying to do what they think is right."

"But they want to hurt father," Cassie objected. "That can't be right. He's a good person."

"That's true," she answered softly. "But...it's just that...I suppose the best way to say it is to say he's sick and...if he doesn't get cured, bad things will happen when he wakes up."

"What's wrong with him?" William asked with a frown.

"Uhm, he's been...infected. There's something inside him that I have to find a way to get out."

"Oh," Cassie whispered. "Are you going to find it, mama?"

Swallowing down the knot in her throat, she answered softly, "I'll never stop trying." After a moment of silence, she forced a smile. "Now, about that magic."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slower updates with this story lately. I've been stuck on it, but I now know how I want to end it and how to get there, so they should pick up again. Thanks for sticking with me :)


	45. Chapter 45

"I'm so sorry to be doing this, Grace," she said softly with a glance back at her children as they cooed over their infant brother. "I simply have no other choice."

"Joseph and I are happy to care for them as long as need be, Katrina."

Nodding, she whispered her thanks again before making her way to the pew where the greater majority of her heart was sitting.

"He seems to be quite taken with the two of you," she chuckled. "What are you teaching him, now?"

Cassie grinned up at her. "It's a secret."

"A secret?" she asked with teasing wide eyes. "You know you're not supposed to keep secrets from your mother."

That statement garnered her a chuckle from the both of them. After a few moments more of watching them happily coo over their brother, she took a deep breath and faced the reality of their situation.

"I need to discuss something important with you," she said, kneeling down before them.

William's eyes jerked to her, a sudden concern flashing in them. "What's wrong, mama?"

Licking her lips, she forced a smile to her face. "You know I love you more than anything, don't you?"

Cassie gave a nod, but William remained unmoving.

"I would do anything to give us a life together. A life in a home with the four of us and your father. A life where we could be happy."

"I won't let you go," William said, rising to his feet and moving to stand beside her. "I won't let you leave us again."

Afraid she was about to lose him to his anger, she shook her head. "Do you remember that spell I taught you? The one that cloaks you? Hides you?"

William only stared at her with clenched fists and a frown. So, she turned to Cassie, who looked to have finally reached the same conclusion as her brother and was now on the verge of tears as she held Jeremy. "Do you remember the spell?"

Cassie nodded. "I remember."

"That's good," she whispered encouragingly. "When I'm gone-"

"You're not leaving us!" William shouted. "You're not!"

Not looking at her son, she kept her gaze on Cassie. "When I'm gone, I want you to cast that spell over yourself and your brothers."

"I don't know if I can, mama," Cassie admitted. "I'm not as good at the spells as William."

Laying a hand to her daughter's cheek, she smiled. "I have faith in you, Cassie. I know you can do this." With a deep breath, she went on, "Remember that it only lasts so long as you maintain it. Once you lose concentration, the walls of your spell will fall and whoever is near will be able to feel you again. I need you to maintain the spell for as long as possible after I'm gone."

It took a moment, but Cassie finally nodded. "Alright."

Releasing a heavy breath through her nose, she could practically feel the pressure building in her son at her side. With a smile to Cassie, she said, "I'll be right back."

Wearily regaining her feet, she grabbed William's hand and pulled him to the other side of the church.

"I don't want to talk to you," he bit out angrily, attempting to pull his hand from hers, but she held him fast. "You're a liar. You don't even love us."

At her end, she turned and knelt in front of him before grabbing his arms and forcing him into a tight hug. For a time, he struggled against her, writhing and pushing against her in all manner of ways. However, it didn't take long for him to realize he wasn't breaking her hold before he finally slumped against her. Carefully lifting a hand to thread through his dark hair, wary of the fact that he may begin to struggle again, she whispered, "I don't want to leave you."

"Yes, you do," he choked out into her neck. "You don't love us."

"Oh, my sweet William," she said, pressing her cheek against his head. "You know that's not true."

"You wouldn't leave us if you loved us," he sobbed. "We're supposed to stay together."

Eyes falling closed, she nodded. "Yes, we are. We're supposed to be together and I wish I could tell you that one day we will be, but I can't make such a promise."

"You can't make me stay," he warned as he pushed against her again, this time catching her enough off guard to gain release. "I'll follow you."

Taking in his rigid stance and stern eyes, she nodded with a small smile. "I know. You're so much like your father in that way. He often refused to be parted from me as well." With a deep breath, she whispered, "I love you more than anything in the world my beautiful boy and I only hope that one day you'll understand that I did this out of love."

A frown creased his face as she laid a hand to his chest and allowed her warmth to seep into him. It only took a moment for his eyes to roll back in his head, forcing her to quickly reach out and catch him before he hit the floor. Tears caressing her cheeks as she struggled to lift him and carry him back to the pew Cassie was occupying, she laid him along its cushion.

"Mama, what's wrong with him?" Cassie asked in a panicked tone.

"He's alright," she answered, running her fingers through his dark hair. "He's only sleeping."

She'd been struggling with her decision all morning. From the moment she'd awoken, she'd felt her coven's presence nearing. By nightfall, she knew they would be upon them, leaving her no choice but to finally do what she knew had been coming since she'd returned from England. It was breaking her heart to do it, but she was at the end of her choices.

"Mama?"

With yet another deep breath, she turned back to her daughter. "I know you're scared."

"Why did you do that?" Cassie asked, her eyes still on her brother.

"Because he would never have let me go," she replied softly. "William is so brave and he would have wanted to protect me. If I hadn't put him to sleep, he would have attempted to follow me."

"Please don't go," Cassie said, finally looking at her. "Please, don't leave us again."

"Cassie, if I stay here, the coven will find us all." Eyes darting to the doors where she could feel their presence nearing, she continued, "But if I go, they will follow me away and you'll be safe."

"But... why can't you just cast the spell to hide us like you've been doing?"

"Because it only lasts so long and every time I let the walls down, they sense our presence." When Cassie finally dissolved into tears that had her small body shaking, she reached and took Jeremy from her before holding out her free arm. "Come here, sweetheart."

Cassie gave no hesitation as she slipped into her embrace. Placing a kiss to her daughter's head, she whispered, "William is brave, but you, Cassie..." She leaned back to catch her eyes. "You are strong."

"No, I'm not," Cassie whimpered. "I'm not like you, mama."

"Oh, but you are," she chuckled softly. "You are so like me, Cassie. It's why I don't worry after you as much as William. I know that no matter what comes your way, you'll always face it with strength and grace, even if you're scared out of your wits at the time."

Jeremy gave a small cry, pulling both of their gazes.

"I need you to be strong for your brothers. They're not like us. They live in their emotions and let them rule them just as your father did." Eyes back on her silently weeping daughter, she assured, "It's alright to be scared, Cassie. It's alright to be weak." Reaching up to wipe the tears from her daughter's cheeks, she went on, "I want you to promise me something."

"To protect them?"

With a shake of her head, she whispered, "I want you to promise me that you'll never settle for anything less than love." Gently pushing aside a stray curl of red, she smiled. "One day, when you're older, I pray that you find a love as I did. Someone who will love you for every part of you, even the things that you think are flaws and would wish away from yourself. Can you promise me that?"

Cassie only frowned at her. "Are you leaving forever, mama?"

Unsure what to say, she chose the truth. "I'm not sure. I hope not." Pushing out a deep breath, she moved on. "Cassie, I have something important to share with you, something you must never tell anyone, not even William."

"What is it?"

She cast a wary glance to the front of the church where Grace and her husband were conversing amongst themselves before turning back to her daughter. "Where your father is."

Cassie looked to William. "Why can't I tell, William? We don't keep secrets from each other."

"Because William might do something rash and I can't have that," she explained. "You must hold this secret for me, Cassie. I trust no one else with it. If something were to happen to me, someone has to know where he is and I'm so sorry to leave that burden of knowledge with you, but there is simply no one else."

For a moment, she gauged her daughter's reaction. It varied from worry to fear to finally resting on determination. "I'd be protecting father?"

"Very much so," she answered quickly. "All you need do is remain silent unless a time calls for you to speak."

"I can do that, mama."

That heartfelt whisper, one full of conviction, tugged at her heart. Leaning forward, she whispered the place she knew her daughter would know, one not far from their old house. Fingers running through her daughter's hair again, she added, "I've given Grace a part of your inheritance to help keep you and your brothers well. The other part, I placed in the cave with your father." Forcing a smile, she whispered, "You're going to be happy, Cassie; happy and safe. You'll have so many opportunities, now. You'll study and learn things. You'll fall in love and see the world as a thing of beauty." With a glance to William, who was still resting on the pew, she continued, "Remind your brother of that. He'll often forget the beauty and cling to the pain. He's like your father in that way."

"What about Jeremy?"

Smiling at her beautiful baby, she stroked his cheek. "We will see each other again, little lord," she whispered. "And I will hold you in my dreams every night until then." Pressing a kiss to his forehead, she turned back to Cassie. "You and your brothers are my heart and soul, Cassie, and you always will be." A breakdown was building in her as she forced herself not to fall apart in front of her daughter. "Can you take him?"

As Cassie held out her arms to cradle her brother, she leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "I love you so much, my daughter."

"I love you, too, mama."

Knowing it was time, she pushed herself to her feet where she took a last moment to memorize their faces, her and Ichabod's faces, before making those long steps to the door. It was time to face her fate.


	46. Chapter 46

Soft cries sounding throughout the room brought her awake. A bit disoriented at first, it took her a moment to find herself, but then her eyes focused on the dark ceiling allowing her the time she needed to properly wake up. Gently pushing at her eyes to wipe the sleep from them, she pushed herself into a sitting position and glanced to William, who was still sound asleep on the other side of the bed. Then, Jeremy's cries reached her again, drawing her gaze to the crib where he rested. Tiredly pushing her hair out of her eyes, she slid from beneath the covers and stood before waving her hand over the bedside table. Candle now illuminating the room, she could better see where she was walking and moved to her whimpering brother.

"Hello," she whispered, fingers soothingly stroking his arm.

For his part, Jeremy was squirming in his blanket, his small cheeks wet with tears.

"Don't cry, Jeremy," she said softly. "I'm here."

His glistening blue eyes danced about as he pitifully continued with his whimpers, his small fists clenched in obvious distress. Releasing a heavy breath at realizing he wasn't easily returning to sleep, she carefully reached down to slide her arms under him, making sure not to tangle them in his blankets.

"Shh," she cooed as she walked over to a rocker and settled into it. "There's no need to cry anymore. I have you."

When he didn't cease, she found herself unsure what to do, even more so when she saw William turn over in the bed in restless sleep. Laying her hand over Jeremy's belly, she began to hum softly in the hopes it would be enough to garner his attention. It did take a few moments, but he finally quieted slightly, his blue eyes staring up at her in wonder.

"Mama used to sing to us when we were little," she began, deciding to make the most of her brother's attention. "She didn't like doing it because she said she wasn't very good at it, but William and I loved it so much that she said she would do it just for us."

Jeremy seemed calmed by her voice, so she went on. "I'm not very good at it either, even if mama said I was. I know she was just saying it to make me feel better. Maybe William will sing for you one day. He sounds really beautiful. I suppose he must have inherited that from father, but I'm not sure. I don't know our father very well."

Adjusting Jeremy, she brought him closer. "I wish I did. He seemed really kind and he always made us laugh. He could even make mama smile." As her eyes began to burn from unshed tears, she whispered, "I miss mama's smile. She didn't smile a great deal, but I always loved it when she did. I hope you get to see her smile one day, Jeremy. I think you would like that."

Jeremy, now quiet, and very nearly back to sleep made a small noise she took to mean he agreed. "I bet you miss her as much as I do. William misses her, too, even if he won't say it." Eyes venturing to the bed where her twin brother slept, she went on, "He doesn't really say anything anymore; not since mama left us again. I think he's as sad as we are."

Since they'd come to live with Grace four months prior, William had spent most of his days after lessons and chores out with the animals. It was something that bothered her greatly as he never seemed to want to spend time with her any longer, much less Jeremy. After he'd awoken in the church to find their mother gone all those months ago, he'd stopped talking to her altogether and what was worse was that he refused to hold Jeremy. It saddened her because she felt as if he blamed her for allowing their mother to leave, but every time she asked him, he would simply turn a cold shoulder to her and retreat back into the barn. If he continued on in such a way, she wasn't sure what she would do.

When she noticed Jeremy had finally returned to sleep, she replaced him in his crib and leaned down to kiss his cheek before making her way back to the bed. As she found a comfortable place beneath the blankets, she whispered, "Goodnight, mama."

* * *

The next time she awoke was because she heard movement on the other side of the room. With a frown, she sat up and looked across the room to where William was pulling a bag from a trunk.

"What are you doing?"

He spun to her with wide eyes, clearly startled. "Nothing."

"Why are you even up?" she asked in confusion. "It's still night out."

When he didn't answer, she crawled to the edge of the bed. "Are you trying to go somewhere?"

"Go back to sleep, Cassie," he said softly as he continued with his bag.

"Answer me, William," she said, her voice raising enough to make sure he understood she expected the truth.

He kicked at the floor before turning to her and sighing. "I'm going to find mama."

Face scrunching into a frown, she asked, "What?"

With a shrug, he looked at his boots. "I hate it here. I don't want to go to school and do chores. I want to be with her."

"But-" She shook her head. "You don't even know where she is. She went away to protect us, William. Even if you find her, she'll just bring you back."

"I don't care," he spat. "I'm not staying here any longer."

Staring at her upset brother, she said, "You can't just leave. What about me and Jeremy? You were going to leave us, too?"

For the first time, his eyes came to hers. "You can't come, Cassie. It's not safe and-and Jeremy loves you. You're the only one who can get him to stop crying, just like you did earlier."

Quickly standing up, she hurried to him. "William, you can't leave me." Her eyes began burning. "Please, don't leave me alone."

His eyes softened as he turned and wrapped her in a hug. As she tightly clung to him, he whispered, "I don't belong here, Cassie. It doesn't feel right."

Nodding into his shoulder, she agreed, "I know."

William pulled back to catch her eyes. "You feel it, too?"

As she twisted her fingers nervously, she answered, "It feels like something's pulling me away."

"What is it?"

Her eyes fell closed for a moment before she confessed, "I think something happened to mama. I keep having nightmares of her in a dark place. There are other things there with her, bad things."

"I have the dreams as well," William said with a nod. "That's why I have to go find her."

"But William-"

"Cassie, she needs me to find her," he cut in. "If the coven has caught her, they may have done something really awful to her. What if she's actually in that dark place? We can't leave her there."

She agreed, but there was still the question of how he would accomplish saving there mother. "Well, what are you going to do against a whole coven?"

"I don't know yet," he said as he pulled his coat on. "They still want father. Maybe I can find a way to help him. If he gets better, they'll leave her alone."

She stared at him for a moment, considering what he'd just said. Their father would be the answer, but her mother had made her swear not to speak of the secret she'd shared with her. However, she was confused over the fact of her mother telling her if she never had the intention for her to use the knowledge. It made no sense, but her mother _had_ said to wait for a time to speak up. Perhaps, this was it. "Alright."

"Alright?" he asked in confusion. "You're going to let me go?"

"No," she said, moving to the closet to dress. "I'm going with you."

"Cassie, you have to stay here with Jeremy," William said immediately through the door. "We can't leave him alone."

She answered as she pulled her dress on. "And you can't go alone. You don't even know where father is."

"I'll find him," he bit out. "You'll just slow me down."

"Not if I take you straight to father," she said as she stepped back out.

A frown creased William's face. "You don't know where he is."

"Mama told me," she admitted smugly, knowing she was about to win in this conversation. "You'll never find him without me."

His body went rigid as he stared at her and, while she waited for a response, she noticed his fists balled and clenching. "Fine," he finally relented with a tired sigh. "Get your bag and let's go. I already have another waiting in the barn with food and other things we'll need."

"I have to get Jeremy first." She turned to walk to the crib when William grabbed her arm.

"He can't go," William whispered roughly. "It's not safe for him."

She jerked her arm free and continued to the crib where she lifted her sleeping brother and wrapped him in a blanket. "It's not safe for us either. We're not leaving him alone."

"Cassie-"

"You're the one who said we shouldn't separate," she said, her chin raised in defiance. "So, we're not going to. We're all the family we have left, William, and we're staying together."

There was another long moment where he stared at her. In that moment, she found herself unsure if she'd made it clear to him that he wasn't going to leave either her or Jeremy. Then, to her relief, he sighed again and roughly picked his bag back up. "I'll get your bag. Make sure you wrap him tight and don't let him cry. He'll wake up the house and then we'll be caught."

Nodding her understanding, she set about doing as he said.


	47. Chapter 47

"How much farther, Cassie?" William asked, his breath coming in short gasps as he trailed behind her, wearily lugging the bags they'd brought over his shoulders.

"Not far," she answered as she glanced down at Jeremy, who was staring up at her while gnawing his fist. "Perhaps, we should rest."

"No," William breathed as he came to stand beside her. "We should keep moving. I want to get there before dark. Two nights out in the woods alone is quite enough."

Rolling her eyes, she bent over to lay Jeremy down in a soft bed of grass, making sure his blanket remained wrapped around him. When she was satisfied he was secure and comfortable, she turned back to William, who was silently glaring at her with a clenched jaw, and pulled a bag from him.

"Is this the one with the food?"

He didn't answer, bringing her own stubborn expression on. "William, if you want to reach father before dark, you'll cooperate with me so we can properly rest and eat before moving on. The longer you sulk, the longer it'll take us to return to our journey." She placed her hands on her hips and defiantly tilted her chin up. "Well?"

He groaned before unceremoniously dropping the other bags to the ground where he set about opening one up. "Here," he muttered, holding out an apple. "If we're going to waste time, then, at least make sure to give Jeremy something."

When he stood back up and turned to walk away, she frowned. "And where are you going?"

He spun around and held out his hands as he walked backwards. "To make sure we're safe. So, be quiet so I can concentrate."

Finished with his attitude, she picked up the bag and returned to Jeremy, who was contentedly making small noises from his place in the grass. Tiredly kneeling down next to him, she smiled. "Are you hungry, Jeremy?"

He waved his fists toward her as he gurgled and she took that to mean he was. "Alright, well, I have a nice juicy apple for you."

As she cut up a piece and held it over him, squeezing some juice into his open mouth, she made sure to keep up with how much she had given him so as not to overdo it and make him ill. One disgruntled brother was quite enough. After squeezing all the juice she could manage out of a slice, she brought it to her mouth to finish it off. As she chewed, she looked over her shoulder. William, who was kneeling in the grass a few yards away, seemed to be deep in concentration. She knew he was doing what their mother had taught them; sensing his surroundings to attempt detecting any other presences. Thus far, they'd managed to elude anyone along the roads. They'd tried to stick to the small animal trails through the woods as much as possible, but sometimes they were forced onto the roads due to streams too vast to cross or rough terrain that would have made travelling with Jeremy difficult. A few times, they'd had to hide in the thick brush, waiting for the random passerby to move beyond sight. It was in those moments she found her fear creeping up the most. Practically holding her breath, she would hold Jeremy close, praying with everything within her that he remained quiet. Nights were spent huddled close together for warmth with Jeremy tucked securely between she and William. They wouldn't light a fire after dark to prevent detection, so the only real heat they had were each other and their coats they'd departed from Mrs. Dixon's with.

Now, though, they were so close to their father. What they would do upon reaching him was still a mystery to her, but at least they would be there to figure it out. They would be with him. At night, as she attempted to find sleep, she would imagine her father and what she would say to him when he awoke. For the first time ever, they would greet each other as father and daughter. He'd been such a very kind man before and she found herself excited to know him better at the same time she dreaded it. That fear that he might not like her, or might be disappointed in her for some unknown reason filled her with a great deal of trepidation.

"Cassie, we should go."

Startled out of her musings, she glanced back at William, who was now standing a few feet behind her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, fearful he'd sensed something dangerous.

"No," he whispered with a glance to the sky. "I'm simply anxious to reach our destination. The noon light has already passed and I want to reach father before nightfall."

"We will," she assured, closing the bag up. "I told you it's not much farther."

"But you still won't tell me where we're going," he tiredly replied. "Do you not trust me, Cassie?"

Not looking at him as she picked Jeremy up and adjusted him in her arms, she answered softly. "Of course, I trust you, William."

"Then, why won't you tell me?"

At her wit's end, she turned to him, her eyes nervously concentrating on his boots. "Because I'm afraid you'll leave me and Jeremy to go off on your own."

Unable to meet his gaze, she continued avoiding his eyes. However, his boots moving to stand toe to toe with hers brought her gaze up to find a soft expression on his face. "I'll never leave you, Cassie."

Eyes burning, she shook her head. "You were going to leave me at Grace's."

His eyes fell to Jeremy, a sadness creeping over his face. "I was," he whispered. "But I've thought about what you said."

"Which time?"

A smile came to his face as he met her eyes again. "About us being the only family we have left." He shrugged. "I don't want to be like them, Cassie."

"Like who?" she asked, her curiosity taking over.

"Mother and father," he answered softly. "They continually leave us alone, without anyone to truly love us. I don't want to do that. We belong together; you and me. We've always been together, even before we were born, and we shouldn't ever separate."

Feeling her heart warm at his words, she smiled. "You promise?"

"I promise," he whispered, his arms wrapping around her.

For a moment, they simply stood there in the middle of the eerie forest, at least, until Jeremy gurgled between them causing them both to pull back with a laugh.

"And you, too, Jeremy, even if we do have to clean you when you've messed everywhere," William chuckled, tapping Jeremy's nose. Then, he looked back up at her, a determined expression returning to his face. "Are you ready?"

She tightened her hold on Jeremy. "I'm ready."

* * *

"There?" William asked, a measure of incredulity in his voice.

"That's what mama said," she answered, shrugging her shoulders.

"But why would she put him there?" He kicked a tree limb out of the way as he helped her across the shallow stream. "I didn't expect anything like an underground cave."

"I don't know," she muttered, scrunching her nose when she felt water soak her socks.

William pulled her up and out of the water before turning to the stone steps that seemed randomly placed. "What now?"

"Here," she said, her eyes searching for the stone her mother had mentioned. "Take Jeremy."

When her baby brother was securely in William's arms, she knelt and began pushing the leaves and twigs away from the stones. It took her a few moments before she finally saw the symbol carved into a stone at the edge of the steps. Laying both hands to it, she pressed it and looked about for something to open.

"Is something supposed to happen?"

Rolling her eyes, she was about to reply when the ground beneath her vibrated, making her quickly stand and stumble back to William's side as the ground seemed to fall away a few feet in front of them, an opening forming.

"Take Jeremy back," William said, holding their brother out to her.

After accepting him, she watched William walk towards the opening. "Be careful, William."

He nodded as he stepped down and descended from her sight. Worry immediately set in. Glancing about at her surroundings, she felt every tree a person sneaking up on her, ready to hurt her and her family.

"Cassie," she heard William call from the opening. "It's safe. Come inside."

Tentatively taking a step forward, she peered into the darkness. "Are you sure it's safe for Jeremy?"

William came into sight as he ascended the steps toward her. "I promise."

When he held his hand out to her, she felt her fear lessen with his assurance. Allowing him to take her arm and guide her down into the opening, she had to blink a few times to adjust to the darkness. The moment her eyes finally made out where they were in the dim lighting, they widened. "It's huge."

"Yes," William agreed, steering her along the muddy path to the center of the room where a large 'X' of salt was placed. "I think that's where father is."

She nodded, despite the fact that their father's resting place wasn't what she was staring at. It was the various jars with moving contents that held her attention. "William..."

"It's alright," he soothed. "Mama did all of this, remember? She wouldn't put anything here that would hurt father."

Well, that was true, but it did little to ease her anxiety as she adjusted Jeremy in her arms. "What now?"

William sucked in a deep breath before kneeling in the mud where he began digging with his hands.

"What are you doing?"

"We have to get him out," he answered, chunking a large piece of mud to the side.

"But... Mama buried him there for a reason. He's ill."

William, however, never ceased in his mission. "And we came here to help him. We can't do that with him still buried, now can we?"

Sighing heavily, she watched as her brother continued digging for a while until he suddenly tensed. "What's wrong?"

He gave her a nervous glance. "I-I think I touched him."

With a frown, she stepped forward. "Is that his hand?"

William nodded before he began digging again. "I think so."

When he shoved a clump of mud out of the way, she gasped as her father's face became visible. "It's him."

William wiped at his face, leaving a trail of mud across it, before he glanced back at her. "Set Jeremy down and come here."

Hesitantly doing as her brother said, she searched for a decent place to lay Jeremy. Finding a rather dry place, she moved to gently settle her brother down. "Just wait right here, Jeremy. I'll be right over here."

"Come on, Cassie," William urged, prompting her to turn back to him and walk to kneel at his side, close to her father's head.

"What do we do now?" she asked, slightly overwhelmed now that she was here and reality that they were actually in their father's hiding place began to sink in.

"I don't know," he whispered, sitting back on his haunches and crossing his arms. "We just need to think about it."

"Think about what?" she groaned tiredly. "We don't even know what's wrong with him."

William didn't answer, prompting her to sigh and glance back at Jeremy, who was once again gnawing at his fist. Grace had said he would be acquiring his teeth soon, which might hurt cause him pain. So far, he didn't cry more than she thought was normal, but she feared he would soon begin and she wouldn't know what to do. She didn't really know much about babies other than what her mother had taught her and what Grace had continued teaching her, and she felt overwhelmingly under prepared. Despite the confident front she tended to put on for William in order to prevent his worrying over her, she was terrified. That was one reason she was so keen on following William; she wasn't prepared to be Jeremy's mother. She needed her own mother to return and do that.

With a frustrated sigh, William reached and wiped some mud from their father's face before reeling back as though burned.

Panicked, she grabbed his arm, examining his hand. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

He gave her a startled look. "I-I felt it."

"Felt what?" she asked, feeling her confusion mount to an all time high.

"His illness," he said slowly as if he were thinking deeply. "It's under his skin... in his blood."

"In his blood?" she whispered, eyes back on her mud covered father.

"It feels... heavy," William explained. "Dark."

"Do you think we can help him?"

"I don't know. I think... maybe." He crawled closer and leaned over their father's chest to place his ear to it. "His heart's still beating."

"Mama said he was only sleeping," she offered, hoping she was of some help.

William sat back up and reached for the knife on his belt.

"What are you going to do with that?"

"Try something," he muttered, reaching for their father's hand and holding the blade to his thumb.

"William," she exclaimed, reaching for his hand to still him. "You're going to hurt him."

"Cassie, I'm just acquiring some of his blood. I want to examine it."

"But..."

"It's alright," he promised softly with a reassuring squeeze to her hand. "Just watch."

With a bit of pressure, blood seeped up from their father's skin to settle around the blade. Gently replacing their father's hand in its resting place, William pulled the knife closer to his eyes and stared at it oddly before touching the red spot. "I was right. It's his blood that's ill."

"What now?" she asked, trepidation welling in her so completely that she felt a shiver run through her small body.

William settled back down into his previous position as he continued staring at the knife. "I don't know."

Defeat began seeping into her. "If anything could have been done, mama would have done it."

With a determined expression, her brother faced her. "She wasn't like us, Cassie. She said so herself. That's why she didn't tell anyone about us, why she always made us study; because we're special. We're special because he's our father."

Eyes burning, she shook her head. "I don't feel special. I feel scared."

"I'm scared, too," he whispered softly. "I'm scared all the time. I'm scared of never seeing mama again. I'm scared I can't help father. I'm scared for you and Jeremy. I'm scared I'm going to fail my family and disappoint them. I'm scared I'm not strong enough."

"You don't seem scared," she said, eyes dancing over his face.

"Well, I am, and because I'm scared of all those things, I'm here, doing something about it." He wiped the back of his hand across her cheek, ridding her of her tears. "We can do this, Cassie. Remember when we were little? Mama used to sit between us as she put us to bed and she'd tell us stories; stories about us growing up and changing the world."

"Those were just stories, William," she reasoned with a sigh.

"And magical beings are just stories to everyone else," he returned quickly. "To other people, we don't even exist, Cassie. We're not real. The only evil most people know are other bad people, but we know differently because we are different. There's no one else like the three of us. No one else can do the things we can do."

At the end of her wits, she whispered, "Well, if we're so powerful, what are we going to do now?"

"Think," he said, settling back down and staring at their father. "We think."

So, that's what they did. They sat there and went through every spell they knew, or even thought they knew. Every so often, she would check on Jeremy, making sure he remained dry and content, which he always was. He was such a happy baby. Though, he did have his moments of outburst. In those moments, he really seemed more like William's twin than she. After night had fallen, she settled against one of the far walls with Jeremy pulled close against her. William, who was still huddled over their father, had refused to bed down for the night. She wasn't sure what more he could possible do, especially without rest, but she knew arguing with him wouldn't do any good. He was beyond stubborn.

Sleep began tugging at her as Jeremy played with her red curls. With a smile, she traced her fingers over his chubby cheeks. "Goodnight, Jeremy."

* * *

"Cassie."

Groaning, she pushed the hand shaking her arm away.

"Cassie, I've figured it out."

Eyes opening slightly, she blinked a few times before wiping at them. "What?"

"I know what to do for father," William said excitedly, pulling at her arms in an attempt to make her sit up.

More confused than ever, she frowned and leaned forward as she tried to push her sleep from her eyes. "Where's Jeremy?" she asked, panic building in her as she looked around her resting place.

"He woke up earlier. So, I cleaned and fed him," William answered, clearly frustrated she wasn't moving faster. "He's over there in the sunlight."

Gaze jerking to the place William had pointed, she saw Jeremy squirming in a few rays of sunshine breaking through the roof of the cave.

"We take it out of him."

Frowning, she looked back to William. "What?"

He pulled her up and over to their father, who not surprisingly, hadn't moved. "We take the bad blood out of him."

"Wouldn't mama have thought to do that?"

William shook his head before he held the blood stained knife out to her again. "Smell it."

"No," she protested, leaning away from him as though her were mad.

"Cassie, it's not going to bite you," he groaned, pushing the knife closer to her. "Just smell it."

Hesitantly craning her neck over the blade, she sniffed at the blood before reeling back with wide eyes.

"It-" she trailed off, unsure what she wanted to say. It was an odd smell, one laced with the sweetness of familiarity.

"It's our blood," William offered, a smile coming to his face "Different, but ours."

A clarity began to settle over her. "Mama couldn't sense it because she has no blood in common with father."

William nodded almost proudly before lifting their father's hand once more and bringing the blade to his large palm. "I think I can separate it and pull the bad blood out."

"Well, how are you going to do that?"

"With a blood to blood spell," he answered confidently. "Remember? Mama told us how to use it if we were ever separated."

"But it's not the same thing, William."

"It'll work," he stated. "I just know it."

"Maybe we shouldn't do this, William. What if we make it worse?"

"Things are already worse, Cassie," he answered, finally slicing the skin of their father's palm. "We need him in order to find mama. Besides, we're not waking him up. We're just trying something."

She wanted to object further, but he took her hand and turned to her with determined eyes.

"Concentrate on the difference. You hold father's blood, our blood, where it is. I'll pull the other out. As far as I can tell, there's not much of the bad."

Full of doubt and hesitancy, she closed her eyes and tightened her hands over her brothers, praying with everything within her things didn't worsen from their actions.


	48. Chapter 48

His throat was dry. His eyes were burning. His body was stiff. Those three things combined had him feeling like he was suffocating as what felt like jolts of electricity shot through his body. Sucking in a breath, which only made his throat close off more, he dissolved into a fit of coughing.

"Father?"

The small girlish voice made his eyes snap open. The reaction forced him to lift his hands to his eyes as something akin to dust invaded them, irritating them immensely. However, his hands only furthered the irritation as they were covered in what felt like mud.

"Help him," the same voice whispered with urgency.

Then, a moment later, small hands were wiping at his eyes followed by some sort of cloth. Lifting his hands over the one's assisting him, he took over the cloth and managed to clear his vision enough to blink at the dark ceiling of what he assumed was some form of a cave. Sitting up, he popped his neck and stretched his arms out forward in an attempt to loosen some of his stiff muscles.

"Father?"

This time, it was a boy's voice calling to him. Turning, he blinked at the two small forms seated at his side and felt his mouth fall open slightly.

"William? Cassie?"

In response, Cassie jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. "I'm so glad you're awake."

More confused than he'd ever been, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around Cassie while trying to discern what was happening. "I-Where am I?"

His eyes met William's, who had stood, and was now staring at him, his small chest rising and falling at a fast pace. When Cassie began sobbing into his neck, he lifted a hand to the back of her head and eased her away from him so he could see her face, which was red and wet from fresh tears. "Cassie?" He brushed the back of his knuckles to her cheek, but frowned when he left a trail of mud behind. That prompted him to glance around at the cave. "How did we get here?"

"Mama put you here," Cassie whispered. "She saved you."

His gaze jerked back to Cassie. "She did?" Searching the cave again, his frown deepened when his search failed to produce Katrina. "Where is she?"

Cassie shook her head. "We don't know. We woke you up so you could help us find her."

Puzzled over this entire situation, he was about to ask another question when a cry came from the other side of the cave. At the noise, Cassie vacated his embrace and hurried to the source of the sound. When she bent and gently lifted something into her arms, he waited in anticipation for her to reveal what it was. The moment she did, however, set his pulse to racing.

"Who-Who does that baby belong to?"

William finally stepped forward and spoke, "That's Jeremy. Our brother."

Eyes snapping to William, he stared at him, startled. "What?"

Cassie knelt back in front of him before pulling the blanket back to reveal the pale, blue eyed baby. "Mama said he looks like you, father."

As he stared at the small child, attempting to work out what was happening, a realization suddenly struck him, prompting him to meet Cassie's bright gaze. "Father? You-You called me father?"

With a soft laugh, Cassie affirmed, "Mama told us. Are you happy?"

Quite out of his depth, he discovered all he could do was nod his head in understanding. Katrina had told them the truth. But why? She'd always been so adamant to keep their parentage a secret.

"We have to find mama, now," William said, his voice stern and full of steely determination.

Hesitancy was slowing his response as he looked his son over. "I'm afraid I'm more confused than not at the moment." His gaze wandered to the cave's opening. "Perhaps, we can venture outside so we can at least properly see one another?"

Cassie offered her agreement, giving him the prompt he needed to carefully push himself up so as not to slip. While William picked up a few bags, he did his best to manage making his way out into the sunlight. It was bright, but warm, which was a godsend as the sticky mud had him freezing from the dampness that was soaked through his clothing.

"Where will we go, father?" Cassie asked, trailing behind him as he knelt and washed his hands and face in the stream running along the outside of the cave.

After cleaning as much mud from his skin as he could manage, he sat on the stone steps and turned to his daughter, who sat beside him in anticipation for his next words. With a smile, his eyes took her in. It had been so long since he'd seen her. Her crimson hair was longer now, her face older and, strangely, more wizened. How the deep blue eyes of a young girl of her age could hold so much emotion was astounding to him. Surely, he must be misjudging what he was looking at. However, his thoughts were pulled from his daughter by the small whimper that came from her arms, drawing his gaze downward to the squirming baby boy.

"Jeremy, was it?"

At Cassie's confirmation, he timidly asked, "May I?"

Cassie looked down at her brother for a moment in thought. For half a second, he was afraid she would refuse him. Perhaps, it was irrational, but it entered his mind nonetheless, especially considering the way she was contemplating the idea. At least, until she began carefully sliding the baby over into his arms. "Careful. You have to hold his head. He's not very good at doing it himself yet." She laughed as though tickled by something. "He doesn't like being held by strangers very much, but I think he'll like you."

Heeding her words, he joined in her laugh, although much more nervously, as he adjusted Jeremy accordingly. "I've never held a baby before."

"Jeremy was the first baby I ever held." Her face fell into one of annoyance. "But William got to hold him first."

"Did he?" he asked, his eyes dancing over his new son. "He's so beautiful."

Katrina was all over the small creature in his arms. Her lips. Her nose. The shape of her eyes. That wonderfully beautiful complexion. Thinking of his love brought a pain to his being.

"Cassie, where's your mother?"

His daughter shook her head, a sudden sadness creasing her features. "After she gave birth to Jeremy, she left us with Mrs. Dixon and said she had to go away to keep us safe."

"Safe? From who?" The thought of his love in any form of danger set his whole being on edge.

Cassie shrugged tiredly and ran her fingers over Jeremy's blanket. "She said her coven wanted to hurt you and she had to protect you from them until she could fix you."

"Fix me? Fix me, how? Why was I in that cave? How did I get there?" Now that he'd had a moment to gather his thoughts, the questions were beginning to pile up.

"Your blood was ill," Cassie whispered. "But William and I made you better."

Narrowing his eyes in confusion, he stared at her. "How long have I been here?"

"I'm not sure. I think a year. It's almost Christmas time."

Completely bewildered by her answer, he looked back down at Jeremy. A year. A year of his life gone, never to be regained. How could he possibly have been asleep for so long? Why would Katrina do that to him? How had he even acquired any illness without his knowledge?

"What about mama?"

William's question had him turning to see his son standing a few feet away, a number of bags hanging off his small form. The stance he was holding brought a frown to his face as he looked like a young man trapped in a boy's body. "Well, I need a few questions answered first."

William winced as he moved to stand at the foot of the steps facing him and Cassie, who asked, "What questions?"

"Do you have any idea where she might be?"

William was the one to answer. "Somewhere cold... and dark." His eyes became distant as though he were seeing something far away. "It's not a good place. She's scared and worried for us." William focused back on him, his blue eyes seeking him out with pleading. "We have to find her. She's waiting for us to find her."

Feeling a prickly sensation send goose bumps along his skin, he swallowed the knot that was currently lodged in his throat. "Alright... Well, what about Alfred? Would he know where she is?"

"We can't," Cassie said softly. "Mama's coven took her. Without her, Alfred will be in charge. She said it was too dangerous because they wanted you dead."

A knowing look came to his face as a burning rage coursed through him at the thought of Alfred. "He did this."

"Father?"

Gaze turning to his daughter, he nodded with a gentle smile. "I know where we're going. Can you carry Jeremy?"

She gave an exuberant nod. "I always carry him. He likes me best of all." She paused. "Except for mama, but I'm next."

Chuckling at her excitement, he carefully slid Jeremy into her arms. Once the baby was secure, he turned back to William, who looked more than ready to set out. As he stood, he held out his hand. "I can take the bags."

To his surprise, William's hands tightened in the straps. "I've got them. They're mine and Cassie's. I take care of us." He stood to his full height and puffed his chest. "We only need you to find mama. It's your fault she left us. So, you have to get her back."

With that, William turned on his heel and began wading across the shallow stream. Completely taken aback at his son's heated words, he glanced down at Cassie, who was staring after her brother worriedly.

"I-" He didn't have any idea of what to say. He and William hadn't spent all that much time together, but the times they had had always been pleasant, even touching. He'd truly thought the two of them had made a connection, despite how withdrawn the boy had been so much to the point that he'd been worried for his health. However, he wasn't sure what to make of this new, outspoken William.

"He really misses mama," Cassie said softly. "She promised we would stay together, but then she broke her promise and left us."

Heart going out to his daughter as she began following William, he sighed and ran both of his hands through his hair before following behind her. Three children. He had three children and not the first clue as to what to do for them. How long had he wished for them? Begged and pleaded with Katrina to tell them? Now, here they were, well within the know just like he'd always wanted. If only he knew what to do.

After a while of walking, he fell into step beside Cassie, making sure to keep his eyes on William, who was a few yards ahead. "We're going to find your mother, Cassie. I won't rest until she's safe with us."

Cassie looked up at him with a smile. "Mama said the same thing about you. She said she wouldn't stop until she found a way to help you. She even went all the way to England."

Eyes widening at that revelation, he asked in slight wonder, "She did?"

Cassie nodded. "She visited your mother and father."

Shock coursing through him, he stared at his daughter. "Did she-Did she say how they were?"

With a shrug, she adjusted Jeremy, who was twisting her crimson hair in his tiny fingers. "Not really. Grandmother Crane gave us an inheritance, though."

Shaking his head in amazement, he said, "I can't believe she went all that way, saw them."

"She loves you, father."

The simple way she said it, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, brought a smile to his face. "And I love her." He caught Cassie's eyes. "And you. You know that, don't you?"

She came to a stop and stared up at him. "Will we be a real family when we find mama? The kind that lives in a real house?"

Throat burning, he took a knee and gave her a reassuring smile. "If it is within my power, we will. I want nothing more."

She smiled and leaned into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her and Jeremy. "I love you, too, father," she whispered into his shirt, her hair tickling his chin.

Joy filled him at the words he'd wished for so many times. His little girl loved him.

"Why are you stopping?"

Turning his gaze to his son, he found William frowning at them. "We're simply having a conversation, William."

His son huffed and bit out, "We can converse when we find mama."

"You don't have to be so mean, William," Cassie scolded. "He's our father. I thought you wanted to find him."

William dropped the bags and angrily kicked them. "I want to find my _mother_! She's scared and alone and you're not even upset!" His son jerked a finger up to point at him. "She left us all alone to help you and you're not doing anything to help her in return! I hate you!"

Sucking in a deep breath, he gave Cassie a tight smile. "Wait right here, alright?"

When she worriedly nodded, he stood and sought out William, who was sobbing next to an oak tree a few yards away. Hesitantly approaching his son, he considered what he should say. He was honestly in no state to deal with this.

"William."

His son's body tensed and stood to flee, but he managed to catch William's arm before he could escape.

"Let me go!"

Not acquiescing, he tugged William around to face him and grasped both of his shoulders to hold him still. "I want you to listen to me," he said firmly, making sure he had William's attention. "I don't know what I'm doing, or how to be a father. All I do know is that I have loved you and Cassie since the moment I discovered you were my flesh and blood and that same love now extends to Jeremy as well. I would die for the three of you, William. I need you to understand that." When William only sniffed, he went on, his voice softening. "And I love your mother. I have loved her since I was a boy younger than you are right now. For nearly my entire life, my heart has belonged to her and..." Loosening his grip on William's shoulders, he lifted a hand to the side of his son's head. "I will not stop until she is with us and I will do whatever it takes to reunite you with her. I swear this to you, my son."

Almost as soon as the words fell from his lips, William's arms were around his neck, tightly clinging to him. "I'm sorry, father. I don't hate you. I just want her back."

Eyes falling closed as he held his son close, he whispered, "I know. I want her back, too."

William nodded into his neck before pulling back and furtively wiping at his face. To give his son some measure of respect so he could rid himself of his tears without being watched, he busied himself with straightening William's shirt before standing and staring off into the trees.

After a reasonable time had passed, he cleared his throat. "Are you ready?"

William nodded and wordlessly began walking back toward Cassie. Upon reaching her, he bent and picked up the bags he'd been carrying.

"Is everything alright?" Cassie asked, the worry still present on her face as she held Jeremy close.

With a smile, he answered, "Yes, Cassie. Everything's alright, now. Right, William?"

William gave a stiff nod, which he took as the best answer he figured he would receive. Tiredly sighing, he placed a hand to Cassie's head, guiding her to begin walking again while waiting for William to proceed as well. When William began moving passed him, he paused for a moment and lifted one of the bags out without looking at him. A small swell of pride at his son's gesture filled him as he knew this was William's way of saying he was handing some of the weight over to him. The moment he accepted the bag, William set out after Cassie, hurrying to catch up to her.

With a deep breath, he slung the bag over his shoulder and made to follow his children, day one in the boots of a father already weighing heavily on him. However, he found it was a weight he found he loved more than any other.


	49. Chapter 49

Heart beating at quite the accelerated pace, he sat on his heel, waiting for all the people in the yard beyond the brush to depart. It was rather late as the evening sun began to sink below the tree line, casting shadows over the landscape, giving it an eerie setting. With a glance to his right, he took in William, who remained steady at his side, eyes concentrated straight ahead. He couldn't imagine the thoughts that swarmed through his son's mind. The boy was ever watchful, taking in his surroundings as though the next tree would reach out and grab him. At what point had his son become afraid of his own shadow?

In the two days they'd been travelling, Cassie had told him of the more important things he'd missed and while he'd enjoyed her conversation, he couldn't help but notice that his daughter seemed less joyful than he remembered her to be during those blessed weeks he'd spent in her home. However, she did still have that spark, that fire she'd inherited from her mother. It warmed his heart to see Katrina in her so much. It didn't hurt that she was looking more and more like Katrina with every day that passed. Her hair had darkened from that bright orange it had been since he first laid eyes on her and was now settling into a shade very near to Katrina's. To be honest, the only part of her he observed to actually be from him was the bright blue eyes that matched his own. She was all Katrina, otherwise.

However, the downside to Cassie looking so like his love was that thoughts of Katrina never failed to make him want to stop moving and fall to pieces in whatever spot he was standing. All she had done since his fall astounded him. In a mere year, she'd buried him, visited his parents on another continent, bore his son, and sacrificed herself for their children. How could one woman be so strong? Do so much? All he wanted in the world at the moment was to find her and lather her with the love and attention she deserved.

Clenching his fists, he took a deep breath and nodded. "It's time to go."

Cassie stood beside him, Jeremy clinging to her clothes and making different noises as she'd been playing with him earlier and he was clearly missing her attention, while William took the bags and shouldered them. When they appeared ready, he stepped from the brush, holding a few limbs back to allow them to walk through unhindered.

"Careful," he cautioned to Cassie, quickly reaching out to steady her as her boot caught on a branch, nearly tripping her.

"I'm alright," she quickly responded, readjusting Jeremy before smiling up at him.

With his own smile, he ran his hand over the back of her hair and nodded. "Alright, come."

As they made their way through the tall oak trees, he kept his eyes on the looming church ahead, the memories he'd made on these grounds swarming through his mind. So much of his life had started on the church grounds he was now walking across. That very first kiss he'd pressed to Katrina's lips, the one that had made him feel so full of joy at finally knowing what she felt like. That first time she consented to allow him the touch of her body, a memory so burned into his mind that nothing and no one could tear it from him. This was also most likely the place that brought forth the conception of their eldest children as well as their lost baby who'd never even received a name, something he was bound and determined to change. That baby had been a part of him and Katrina, one deserving of at the very least a name of its own. So much of his life was started here and even now these grounds would make way for his reclaiming of his love. Upon reaching the tall doors, he pushed one open and held a hand up for William and Cassie to wait for a moment. When he caught sight of the black robed figure at the end of the aisle, he stepped further within and signaled his children to follow. Everything within him had wanted to leave them in the safety of the trees, but his desire to never allow them out of his sight again had overruled that urge. Halfway down the aisle of the old church, he turned to Cassie and held out his arms for Jeremy, who made a soft cooing sound during the transfer. At the noise, the black robes swirled, bringing Alfred Knapp's face into view. The moment the man's eyes caught sight of him, they widened and the Bible he'd been holding hit the floor with a thud.

"Ichabod... What? How?"

Holding his squirming son close to his chest, he narrowed his eyes at his former friend. "That should hardly be your greatest concern at the moment."

Alfred glanced at William and Cassie, who were on each side of him, a shadow of fear flashing over him as the threat struck home. It was the reason he now held Jeremy rather than Cassie. As loathe as he was to admit the truth of it, his children were his only means of defense against a being of magic like Alfred. Of all the creatures in the room, he was by far the least powerful and it had him set on edge.

"It's not possible for you to be here."

"Where is my wife?" he bit out, finding his patience slipping by the second.

Alfred's eyes jerked back to his, that blank expression he so hated slipping into place. "I don't know."

Clenching his jaw to the point he was surprised he didn't grind his teeth into extinction, he took a threatening step forward and warned, "Do not lie to me. She was fleeing the coven and has since disappeared. What have you done with her?"

Alfred began steadily shaking his head. "Ichabod, I was not part of what happened to Katrina. I allowed her the time to search for a way to save you. I allowed her to leave, despite my misgivings regarding your situation."

Heart beating wildly beneath his chest, he asked again, "What happened to her?"

Hesitation passed behind Alfred's age worn eyes and that was all it took for William to lose his own patience and bolt forward a few steps. "What did you do with her? Give her back!"

His shout was followed by the candles at Alfred's back bursting to life, their flames standing much too high to be a normal lit candle.

"William," he soothed, laying his free hand to his son's shoulder and rubbing it. "Please, calm yourself, son."

His son shrugged his hand away, but did relent to stepping back to his side, his body rigid. When he focused his gaze back on Alfred, the man was staring at William in shock.

"A child of his age is not meant to have that level of power," Alfred said, his voice shaking. "It's unnatural." The Reverend's eyes slid back to his. "What you and Katrina have created should not exist."

Narrowing his eyes at the man, he all but growled, "What Katrina and I have created are three beautiful creatures." He took a step forward. "What Katrina and I have created are three children in need of their mother." He raised an eyebrow. "What Katrina and I have created is a son who loves his mother deeply, one who is desperate to find his mother, one who grows angrier every day that she continues to be parted from him." Alfred's quickly eyes darted to William. "Do you really want that anger to continue festering?" He shrugged and pursed his lips. "I admit I know nothing of raising a young warlock, or how to manage his anger. Do you, Reverend?"

For a moment, he wasn't at all sure what Alfred's next move would be, but then the man nodded and held his hands out in a show of surrender. "I cannot retrieve her for you, Ichabod. She's beyond my reach, now."

Swallowing the knot in his throat, he tightened his hold on Jeremy and asked, "What do you mean? Beyond your reach?"

The old man sighed. "The coven was furious over her betrayal. They tracked her down and captured her."

"Is she-" He couldn't even bring himself to ask it as he felt his eyes begin to burn. No, she was alive. He knew that. "William said she's somewhere cold and dark. He said she's scared, Alfred. Where is my wife!?"

A sorrowful look took Alfred's face over, one he actually thought to be genuine. "Purgatory."

"Purga-?" He shook his head. "What do you mean she's in Purgatory?"

Alfred held up his hand again. "She's alive, Ichabod, but the coven banished her there."

Lifting a hand to rub his eyes, he asked, "And what were they planning on doing with my children should they have captured them as well?"

"They would be with her."

Blowing a heavy breath through his nose, he pulled Jeremy from his shoulder and knelt down next to his daughter. "Cassie."

She immediately held out her arms to accept her brother. Once Jeremy was adjusted in her arms, he placed a kiss to his daughter's forehead and then abruptly stood and spun around to jerk the Reverend forward by his robes, his blood boiling. "You allowed this horror to befall her," he breathed into the man's face before pushing him backward in disgust. "And you would have allowed it to happen to my _innocent_ children. What is the matter with you? Have you lost all sense?"

Alfred pushed himself up from the pew he had stumbled into. "I had no control over it. I was one voice in the midst of many."

Thrusting a finger at the man, he bit out, "I don't care for your excuses! Katrina was your friend. She was loyal and loving her entire life and then you attempted to tear everything that mattered to her away. I want to know how to get her out. How do I retrieve her?"

Alfred shook his head. "There is no way, Ichabod."

At that, he brought a hand to his head and began pacing back and forth. "No, no, there is. There has to be a way. There has to be..." He leaned against one of the pews and pushed his hair back as he attempted to sort out his erratic breathing which was beginning to take hold of him.

"Father?" William's small voice called, drawing his gaze to his son, who was shifting his feet as though he wasn't sure what to do.

Giving his son the best smile he could muster, he sucked in a deep breath before turning back to Alfred. "I'm not leaving here until you give me something, _anything_."

Alfred stared at him for a long moment before saying, "Franklin."

Confused at such an answer, he asked, "What?"

"Benjamin Franklin," Alfred explained, clasping his hands together in front of him. "If you want a chance at freeing her, consult him. I have nothing further to offer you."

Taking a moment to allow that information to sink in, he nodded. "I never want to see you near my wife or children ever again."

With that, he turned on his heel and stepped toward his children before placing his hand on William's shoulder and guiding him toward the door with Cassie following closely behind them.

"Are we going somewhere new, father?" Cassie asked, her voice small, yet hopeful.

"Yes, sweetheart," he answered, resolute in his mission. "We're going to find your mother."


	50. Chapter 50

"Has morning come yet?" Cassie softly inquired as she gave a slight lift of her head from his shoulder to searchingly gaze up through the tall trees; her eyes seeking the sky which was just now revealing it's pink hue signaling morning had finally arrived.

"Nearly," he whispered, adjusting his arm after hours of holding it stone still. He wasn't sure how long it had been numb from his effort to not jostle his sleeping daughter, who had pressed close into him during her sleep, but he did know he was especially glad for the opportunity to finally flex it.

They'd found their rest late into the night under an old, oak tree about two miles outside of town. In truth, he hadn't wanted to stop in his mission to reach Benjamin Franklin as soon as possible. However, the sight of his clearly fatigued daughter as well as his fitful, young son, who he had been carrying in his arms, had practically screamed at him to stop. When he'd said as much, William's sleepy eyes had stared up at him and a half hearted protest had tumbled from his lips, but even William couldn't deny how exhausted he and his siblings were. The boy had almost collapsed on the spot once the decision to rest for the night had been made.

Presently, they were all huddled together in the quest for warmth during the cold, winter morning. For his part, he was leaning in a rather awkward position against the tree with Jeremy sleeping soundly against his chest; his small body wrapped loosely in a thick blanket. His young son was a sight he found he could continue staring at for endless amounts of time. The way his eyelashes fluttered in sleep put him so in mind of Katrina. It was like watching a small part of her resting in his arms. He supposed that was actually true. Their children were a rather large, living and breathing, part of her.

When Cassie shifted against him again, his gaze was drawn to her. She was still caught somewhere between waking and sleeping; her blue eyes opening every few seconds before tiredly closing again. Crimson hair tumbled over her shoulders as it had fallen during the night from the leather band she'd pulled it back with earlier the day before in an attempt to prevent Jeremy from jerking it right out of her scalp. He'd noticed the boy was getting very accustomed to doing that as a means to grab his sister's attention when she didn't immediately turn her eyes to him.

With a small smile, he pulled the blanket covering the two of them higher up on her shoulders to provide her with a little more warmth. Satisfied she was alright, he glanced to her other side to see William shifting restlessly in the pile of leaves he'd gathered to sleep upon. A frown creased his young face, signaling his dreams were just as restless as his body. To say he was at a loss for how to assist his son would be a mild understatement. More than anything else, he wanted to find Katrina for William. The boy had always been attached to her in a more than usual way. Most boys tended to trail after their fathers while bearing an enduring affection for their mothers, but not William. From the few short months of observation he'd been allowed of Katrina and William's interactions when he'd boarded with them, the boy had seemed overly attached to her. Half the time, he had tended to keep Katrina in his sight; always clinging to her or Cassie. He also recalled how difficult it had been to even draw William out enough to speak with anyone other than his mother and sister. He'd found it so very odd at the time, thinking his son might suffer some form of illness, but Katrina had always insisted it was simply William's timid nature that had made him so withdrawn. Over time, he had, of course, witnessed William be more forthcoming with conversation, even taking to clinging to him at times, but never enough to venture too far from his mother's eye. It was beautiful to him honestly; the connection they shared. After having his worry assuaged by Katrina, he'd been allowed to appreciate how much his son loved her. She'd managed to form a strong bond with William by simply being attentive to him. All the reading and storytelling she'd done with the twins had been something he'd so enjoyed observing and it had only strengthened her children's love for her.

However, this version of William was not one he'd ever expected to encounter. His son was fierce in his determination to find his mother. He couldn't blame him. He, too, was desperate to find his love, be reunited with her, but William's was different. The only conclusion he could draw was that Katrina had been William's only real security for the entirety of his short life. It was also easier to understand their relationship when he considered the fact that she'd so rarely allowed the twins to venture too far from their home out of fear that their true parentage would be discovered. That choice had left the children living an extremely sheltered life, only having each other and Katrina to spend the majority of their days with. She was not only their mother, but also their only real friend and protector. It was a wonder that Cassie didn't suffer the same attachment issues with her. He could only chalk that up to Cassie's independent and sociable personality which made her a friend to all she encountered. Her constant laughter and wonder over the world was infectious, often drawing people to her.

With a heavy sigh, he stared at his son, who shared so much of his own personality, and imagined he'd be much the same way if he'd lived his childhood in similar circumstances. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to make sure William found his way back to Katrina. It was a promise he'd cemented in his very bones; one that hopefully would come to pass very soon.

Life without Katrina had finally become a thought of the past for him, at least until the Horseman's axe had found a home in his chest. They'd finally cemented their love with marriage and a determination to live out the rest of their lives together with their children. Everything had seemed so bright for them. Now, though... Why could they not ever have more than a few moments happiness together? Katrina was locked away in some form of hell, likely suffering at the hands of some evil creature, and he was fumbling with instant fatherhood to three children with a year of his life missing. It was pure madness. He'd done his best to block what she must be enduring from his mind, but in the dark of night when their children were resting and quiet, he found thoughts and various nightmares involving his love plaguing him. The fear and worry for her was draining him in ways he couldn't properly describe and leaving him with a severe lack of sleep.

Gaze turning out to the morning sun's light creeping through the thick trees, he prayed this day would give them the answers they so desperately needed because he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep himself from going mad with grief and worry.

* * *

The street Franklin's house was located on was one of the busiest in the whole town. That knowledge unnerved him as he pulled the hat upon his head lower over his face; the very hat he had, with a great deal of guilt, stolen from an older gentleman a few minutes earlier. The last thing he needed was to be recognized by someone from his past and have them running and shouting about the resurrected soldier in their midst's. That would not bode well for him and his children, and most definitely not for Katrina.

"Which one, father?" William asked as his blue eyes danced over the tall buildings in search of the destination they'd been travelling toward all morning.

He nodded toward the particular building they were approaching. "That one there, son."

William's eyes focused and narrowed. "Is he going to help us?"

With a glance down at Jeremy, who was contentedly gazing around at his surroundings, he answered honestly, "I'm not sure." He then looked to William, who now seemed uncertain. "But we're not leaving until he does."

His son gave a short nod and proceeded to walk at a quicker pace toward the house. Knowing they were about to face a possible bit of danger, he turned to Cassie. "You stay by my side."

She smiled tiredly and lifted her slender hand to slide into his larger one. "I promise."

Feeling his heart swell with love for his daughter, he gave the most encouraging smile he could muster and tightened his fingers around her small hand.

"Go ahead and knock, William," he said as he ascended the stone steps while keeping an eye out for anyone paying too much attention to the four of them.

So far, everyone seemed to be going about their day without too much care, all too wrapped up in their own lives to pay any mind to a father travelling with his young children. The most notice they'd received was a few smiles from an assortment of women toward his children, but that was hardly alarming as he couldn't blame them. He and Katrina did make beautiful children.

When the door opened to reveal the short, burly man, he took a deep breath and and lifted his gaze to catch Franklin's curious gaze. The moment their eyes connected, Franklin's widened for half a second before a wry grin came to his face. "Well, I see your witch did indeed manage to save you from imminent death, Ichabod."

Unsure how to respond to humor where he'd been expecting shock, he gave a terse nod. "May we come in? We've been travelling for some time now and my children are weary."

In response, Franklin gave William a once over with a cocked eyebrow. "And what do they call you, young man? You look ready to fight a bear."

William glanced up at him in uncertainty to which he shrugged his approval, prompting William to turn back to Franklin with a proud chin tilted up. "William Crane."

If he hadn't been holding Jeremy, he was sure he would have fallen right over and down the steps. Of course, he'd imagined his son taking his name, but never had he actually heard it spoken out loud by himself or anyone else.

Clearing his throat to rid himself of the emotion that had lodged in it, he looked to Franklin. "We have business to discuss."

Franklin stepped aside, allowing them to pass him and venture further into the house; the one he'd spent a great deal of time in over previous years now long gone. As memories assaulted him, he considered how he and the man now shutting the door behind him had never really gotten along even if they had developed a certain odd fondness for each other. There were few others living he'd say he argued with more, while still deeply respecting.

"I know why you're here."

Startled, he turned on his heel to face the man and frowned. "How could you possibly know my intentions?"

"We live in a world of magic, Ichabod," Franklin offered with an amused chuckle before adding, "Alfred sent a bird."

As Franklin then walked to a door and began descending to his workroom, Cassie whispered covertly, "He's odd."

Unable to help his smile at his daughter's words, he agreed, "Yes." He looked down at her while tightening his hold on Jeremy so the boy wouldn't jump right out of his arms. He was getting stronger and developing a mind of his own; one that had him squirming fitfully. "I'm glad you think so as well."

When they'd finally entered the workroom, he glanced around at it in puzzlement. It was entirely too clean for Franklin. "Since when do you tidy your workspace?"

Franklin made a disgruntled noise. "My new assistant. He thinks he knows better than I and straightens it as he please. Why I can't find anything in here now!"

"Your new assistant?" he asked just as the side door opened and in walked an all too familiar face.

"Hey, Ben, have you seen the-"

"Thomas!" Cassie squealed, swiftly bolting forward toward the startled, fair haired man.

At Cassie's unexpected greeting, Thomas' eyes widened as the small girl threw her arms around his legs. "Why if it isn't my old, mischievous pal!"

Cassie giggled as his friend's eyes ventured to the other's present in the room, an expression of shock taking him over as his gaze landed on him. "Wha- Ichabod?"

Feeing a grin come to his face, he answered in a warm voice, "It's good to see you, Thomas."

Thomas chuckled and shook his head with that air of amusement he always seemed to have. "It's good to be seen by you. I honestly didn't think I'd be doing that ever again."

With a nod of understanding, he shifted Jeremy, who was still squirming, which drew Thomas' gaze down. "Is that the baby?"

Cassie quickly grabbed Thomas' hand and began tugging him forward. "His name is Jeremy. I'm his favorite person."

"I know," he said as he made a funny face for Jeremy's benefit. "Your mother told me."

At the mention of Katrina, his gaze snapped up to stare at his friend in shock. "You've seen her since Jeremy was born?"

Thomas's expression sobered as he said, "I have. A little over a month ago."

Overcome with the desire to collapse to his knees, he spoke aloud, though, more to himself than the others, "So, she hasn't been there long."

It was Franklin, who was standing with his arms crossed while observing their little reunion, who answered, "You mean, since she was cast into Purgatory for her betrayal of everything she'd ever stood for?"

A hot fury coiled in his chest as he narrowed his eyes and practically growled, "Her coven had no right to do such a thing to her. She was trying to save your precious Witness."

Franklin didn't even flinch as he answered in return, "She was trying to save her love. I assure you that right down to the end, she had nothing but your survival on her mind."

Body going rigid at the implications behind that statement, he stared at the man in puzzlement. "You were there?"

"No, but I was," Thomas said, gesturing between him and Franklin. "When her coven finally caught up to her, they still had me in their custody in the hopes that I would be leverage against her." Thomas grinned. "She told them they could split me in half for all she cared. She wasn't giving you up."

Eyebrow knitting, he asked, "Why is that funny to you?"

Thomas shrugged and leisurely leaned against the work table as if they were discussing nothing more than the weather. "She knew they were bluffing." A beat passed before he frowned in contemplation. "At least, I _think_ she knew that." He waved his hand as though it didn't matter. "Anyway, when she wouldn't give them what they wanted, they became enraged and dealt out their punishment. After that, they released me into Ben's custody as part of a bargain."

Doing his best to digest the information he was receiving, he glanced to William, who was standing at his side and listening with rapt attention. Though, his son didn't seem to be making any more sense of this situation than he was.

After a moment, he looked to Franklin. "Alfred said if anyone could help me, it was you."

Franklin placed his hands on the table and leaned forward with a sympathetic expression. "I understand your desire to free your wife, Ichabod. It makes for a very touching story. However, the life of one witch isn't worth the lives of every other soul in the world. If I were to help you, it would jeopardize everything."

His heart had taken to beating wildly in his chest. He was so close. He could not be stopped now. "Please."

"Our greatest enemy has her captured," Franklin explained, the lines in his face giving way to how serious he was. "Why he wanted her, I know not. All I know is that she's not an ordinary captive and it's far too dangerous to make an attempt to free her."

Lifting a hand to his eyes, which he was squeezing shut in an effort to hold himself together, he sagged down into a chair while holding his son close.

"Father?"

William's soft voice pulled his gaze up. His eldest son was staring at him with all the faith a child could have in his father... and he was failing him. How could they come this far only to be halted in their tracks? Gaze dropping to the small baby in his arms, he stroked his fingers along the boy's pink cheek. If they failed to free her, how would Jeremy ever know the beauty of his mother's smile; the soft sound of her sweet laughter? The love and comfort of his mother would be something the boy would desperately want one day and what would he have to offer him?

"He wants her," he muttered under his breath as a realization washed over him.

"What?"

Eyes jerking up to Franklin, he abruptly regained his feet and used his free hand to point at the man. "You said he wants her."

Franklin stood straighter and gave a wary response. "Yes."

"Why?"

"I told you, Ichabod. I don't know."

"Exactly," he said, stepping forward and handing Jeremy to Cassie before turning back to Franklin. "If the reason the enemy wants her is unknown to even her coven, then it stands to reason it's a rather serious problem."

Franklin shook his head. "I see where you're going with this and my answer is still no."

Not to be stopped, he pressed, "You may be doing the world an even greater favor by saving her than by allowing him to keep her. We have no idea what he's using her for."

A moment of doubt crept over Franklin's face, giving him the moment he needed. "If we succeed in freeing her, you would be a hero to the world."

"Ichabod," Franklin said with a tired sigh. "Even if I give you what I have, it's only one piece of the puzzle. You wouldn't be able to free her with my help alone. Her coven, the ones who banished her, are the only ones with knowledge of the spell needed to free her."

Nearly halfway to his goal, he assured, "I will deal with them next. Please, help me free her. I will be forever indebted to you."

With a roll of his eyes, Franklin started toward the staircase and stopped just in front of the wall to its right. He then proceeded to pull one of the bricks from the wall and produce a small object wrapped in cloth.

"Her coven gave this to me in the hopes that I could destroy it." He turned and laid the object on the table before unwrapping it to reveal a metal key. "Young Thomas, who I asked them to release to me as an assistant, and I did all we could think of, but still it remains intact. I had plans to secret it away, but..."

"A key?" He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't that.

Franklin gave an exasperated sigh. "Crane, it's the key to Purgatory."

Eyes widening as that knowledge lodged into his mind, he stared at the key that had the ability set his love free. "How do I use it? Where do I use it?"

"That's something I have no knowledge of," Franklin admitted. "You'll have to seek out her coven for help."

William stepped forward to take the key, which he began examining in his palm. "This is going to free, mama?"

With the most reassuring smile he could muster, he nodded to his son. "Yes."

A moment passed of them all watching the boy turn the key in his grasp before Franklin clapped his hands together. "Well, I don't know about you youngsters, but I'm famished." He held his arm out to Cassie in offer. "Would you mind allowing me to escort you to the breakfast table, Misses Crane?"

Cassie glanced up to him with a searching look for permission. Knowing she was likely starving, he gave a nod of approval and accepted Jeremy, who she handed back to him before taking up Franklin's arm as he began chatting with her immediately. "I know your mother, you know. She's quite fond of me. I personally believe it's my dashing good looks."

Cassie giggled, bringing a smile to his face as he turned his attention to Jeremy and adjusted the boy in his arms. "I suppose you're hungry as well, aren't you?"

He took his son's soft gurgling as confirmation.

"Well, Crane," Thomas said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I imagine we have a great deal to catch up on."

With William following behind Cassie and Franklin, he and Thomas brought up the rear with Thomas rambling on about what they might be having for breakfast. However, food wasn't his main thought. It wouldn't be long now until he was reunited with his love.


	51. Chapter 51

There they were; the one's who'd attempted to take everything from him.

As he cautiously approached the hollowed out portion of the tunnel the coven held its meetings in, he gathered every last ounce of his courage for the confrontation looming ahead of him. They knew he was coming as there was little doubt in his mind that Alfred had already informed them and that was to say nothing of their likely sensing his presence nearing.

Despite his circumstances, he felt rather confident in himself as he was, after all, their precious Witness. Never before had he been so glad of that title. Once having haunted him, keeping everything he so desperately wanted out of his grasp, he now found it would likely be the one advantage he had to garner their help.

With the comforting knowledge that Thomas was minding his children not far off with Cassie maintaining a cloaking spell around them, he stepped into the firelight which was shining from the room's center. As the cloaked figures parted the way for him, a collective gasp echoed throughout the room, making a light sheen of sweat gather along his forehead as the room seemed to drastically rise in temperature. He, a mere human, was standing amongst some of the most powerful beings in the world. That thought alone gathered a knot in his belly that he was sure wouldn't budge any time soon.

"Alfred," he called, his voice coming out in a cracked whisper.

The figures scattered around the room were all cloaked, making it difficult for him to discern who was who. However, movement to his right drew his gaze to reveal Alfred removing his hood and walking toward him.

"Why have you come here, Ichabod? I've given you all the help I can."

Swallowing the knot lodged in his throat, he said, "Tell me how to retrieve Katrina."

Another witch briskly stepped forward, her dark eyes glaring at him heatedly. "She is no longer our concern. Her punishment has been dealt out for her atrocious crimes against our order."

A furious heat welled in him as he angrily turned to the dark haired woman. "If it wasn't for her, I would not be alive."

The woman narrowed her gaze. "She threw away her heritage and betrayed her entire family by consorting with you."

" _I_ am her family!" he shouted, his emotions getting the better of him. "She is _my_ wife and the mother of _my_ children."

"You mean the abominations she brought upon the world?" another witch asked from behind him. "They will be dealt with in time just as she was."

Not caring that the woman before him was immensely more powerful than he, he bolted forward and grabbed her by the front of her cloak before jerking her forward. "If you go anywhere near my children, I swear to God, I will find a way to kill you myself."

The woman's gray eyes widened as she clawed at his hands for release. "They're too powerful for this world. If they were to tap into the darkness, it would be our end."

Repulsed but the woman's lack of a conscience, he roughly shoved her away. "So, your answer is to torment them by forcing them to flee in the middle of the night? To force them to watch their _pregnant_ mother give birth under duress? To tear their beloved mother from them and banish her to a form of hell?" He shook his head in disgust. "If my children were ever to be anything other than the innocent creatures they are now, it will only be thanks to you."

Alfred stepped forward, his hands raised in surrender, as he obviously attempted to diffuse the rising tensions in the room. "Ichabod, you must understand how dangerous they could be to the world."

At the end of his patience for the rampant delusions of the beings surrounding him, he clenched his fists and turned to the man. "You mean to _you_? They're more powerful than you, so you hunt them out of fear; out of a need for control." He looked the man he'd once considered a dear friend square in the eyes. "Is that not why humans hunt you? Because they fear that which they do not understand? Because they want to regain the control they think they've lost?"

Alfred's eyes widened in surprise as he staggered back a step. "That's different."

So very tired, he closed his eyes as they began to burn with unshed tears. Why could these people not understand? "Is it, Alfred? Do we not all, no matter our kind, fear creatures with more power than we ourselves possess? Does a sparrow not fear a feline as it stalks its prey? Does a human not fear a witch even as he or she burns at the stake? Do you not fear my children simply because they possess abilities you do not?"

He could see a growing discomfort spreading over the Reverend's features that was making the man shift his feet as he scrambled for an answer. "Be that as it may, Katrina-"

"Saved the life of the Witness you were all so desperate to direct about as you pleased," he cut in with feeling. "She saved me when no one else would."

"And the Horseman," the first dark haired witch that had earlier spoken offered. "If she had allowed you to die as she was supposed to, if she had not so selfishly saved you for herself, he would be finished as well."

"And yet, he still remains where ever it was that you hid him, doesn't he?" he asked, not allowing her the upper hand. "Tell me. I'm sure you've all checked out of fear and your constant need for control."

A murmur arose amongst the other cloaked figures as she answered, "He does. We find ourselves at a loss for how that is so."

"I'll tell you how," he said with a measure of pride and smugness. "My and Katrina's abominations did away with my blood tie to the Horseman. They used their _evil_ abilities to pull Death's hold out of me." He held his hands out in show. "And now I'm here; as healthy as ever; free to be your Witness again." When no one made a move to answer, he went right into his stipulations. "However, if you do not give me what I came here for, I swear, I will never lift a finger for you ever again, no matter how desperately you may need it."

Alfred held up a hand. "Ichabod-"

"You _will_ give me my wife," he heatedly interrupted. "Or I will not be your Witness any longer. I _will not_ do whatever it is that you think I was born to do. I will take my children and leave this place and you all will be left with your fearful notions."

"Even if we wanted to," the gray eyed woman stated. "We no longer have the means to free her."

"Lucky for you, I do," he answered in a clipped tone. "I have the key to the gates of Purgatory and now you are going to give me the means to use it."

Another series of murmurs circled the room as Alfred gave a weary sigh. "If that key falls into the wrong hands..."

"It won't," he quickly replied as he decided to tip his last piece of leverage. "At least so long as you help me. I've given the key to a trusted friend and if I don't return to him with what I need by a certain time, he has his orders to give it to the first Hessian he can search out."

The dark haired woman gasped and brought a hand to her chest. "You wouldn't do such a thing!"

With a seething glare, he stared at her. "Your coven is meant to be a source of good, yet you delivered my wife into captivity in the hands of the enemy." He turned his gaze to the others. "You _all_ tried to take my life from me. You've tormented my children for the past year. You've handed my wife over to the monster you're all trying to destroy. My newborn son doesn't even know his mother's face, or voice." He shrugged his shoulders. "I couldn't care less what you think is appropriate. You will give me what I came here for, or you will suffer the consequences of the choices you've made in regards to my family."

A deafening silence permeated throughout the room, the only sounds that of the cracking fire in its center. As they all stared at him in shock, he found himself truly hoping he'd not overplayed his hand. He'd simply found he'd reached a desperate point and could no longer play the game these people had pulled him into so many years ago.

"I'll write the words down for you," Alfred said, resignation apparent in his voice.

Before the man could move, relief was coursing through him as he stated, "There's no need. I'll remember."

Alfred regarded him for a moment and he couldn't be sure, but he could have sworn he saw a flicker of pride for him in the elderly man's eyes. Thinking he must have misread what he'd seen, he listened to the words and, the moment Alfred was finished, he turned on his heel and exited the room; one step closer to his love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love when Ichabod stands up for his family.
> 
> And sorry this one was so short. I promise the next one will be longer.


	52. Chapter 52

The eerie, fog covered night that greeted him as he walked through the many, tall trees, which were so utterly still that he wondered if they were even real, was overwhelming his senses. There was a significant lack of bird, or insect sounds; something he thought strange as he was in what appeared to be a forest. Surely, something should be making noise. Not even the slightest breeze was rustling the trees. He considered that even cemetery's gave more life than this place.

After he'd been roughly shunted into this new realm, he'd found himself to not be alone nearly immediately. In every direction he turned, there were more souls walking to and fro, or, as some were dismembered, crawling across the damp ground. The various forms appeared to be living in some sort of constantly tormented state and, what's more, completely unaware of his existence. No one soul seemed to react to another, but, instead, they walked along as though they were the only creatures in this dark place. He supposed he should be thankful for that at the very least. It permitted him the ability to walk along unhindered.

Casting aside all thoughts of the other creatures in his midst, he glanced around himself. The tall trees were casting dark shadows over the ground as they reached up toward a pitch, black sky and anything beyond was unperceivable due to the hazy, white, curls of fog hanging in the air. To be honest, he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when he'd made the first step into this realm, but it most certainly hadn't been this. This placed looked so incredibly vast that he was uncertain of where to even begin searching for Katrina. As he spun around in an attempt to discern which direction he should resume walking in, he closed his eyes and released a heavy breath though his nose. How could he have been here for so short a time and already be at a loss? If he couldn't decide something as simple as which direction to take, he feared he'd go mad. However, a shrill scream to his left promptly brought his eyes right back open as a shiver shot down his spine. That sound alone sent him in the opposite direction of where it had originated.

As the leaves beneath his boots crunched every time he took a step, he felt like he was in the spotlight of whatever various creatures called this place home. Not for the first time since entering Purgatory, he found himself thankful he'd forced William to remain behind. The very notion that his son might have been forced to endure this desolate place filled him with anxiety. Even as a grown man, he had to admit that he was scared out of his wits.

_"Please," William begged as he clawed at his coat. "I have to go! I have to help you find her!"_

_As he came to a stop in the place Alfred had spoken of, he ran a weary hand down his face and sighed. So caught up in getting to the place, he'd failed to consider his son's adamant refusal to be left behind. He should have prepared himself for this. "William, I need you to remain here and look after your brother and sister."_

_William's reaction was as expected. His foot stomped against the earth and his blue eyes narrowed into slits of anger. "They have Thomas to look after them!"_

_Cassie, for once without Jeremy in her arms, reached for her brother and gripped his wrist. "William, you promised we wouldn't separate. Father will bring mama home to us."_

_William shook his head as he groaned in frustration; his fists clenching. "Please, father. I can help you."_

_At the end of his strength and knowing his time left here with his children was limited, he turned and knelt in front of his red faced son. "I never would have made it this far without you, my son, but the rest of this journey is one I must make alone."_

_William opened his mouth to protest, but he reached out and grasped his son's slender shoulder to stop him; feeling the anger and frustration exuding from every inch of the boy. "Your mother would never forgive me if I brought you into that place. She sacrificed her life for me, for all of us, so that we would be safe. I know it's my doing that she had to make such a choice. The entirety of this past year happened because she made the courageous choice to save me." He laid his hand to the side of his son's tight face hoping with all his might the boy would understand. "Allow me to go find her and bring her back to you. It's the least I can do for all the pain I've caused you."_

_Not even making the slightest change to his son's expression, he watched with ever growing sadness as William jerked away from his touch and stalked off a few feet before taking to leaning against a tree with his back to them. The tension in his young shoulders was visible from the stiff posture he'd taken to exhibiting. With a heavy hearted sigh, he tore his eyes from his son and turned to his daughter, who looked to be on the verge of her own tears as she shifted her feet and twisted her hands in front of her._

_"I wish you weren't leaving us," she said softly, her normal silvery voice now quavering. "You only just came back to us. I don't want to be alone again."_

_"I know," he whispered as he gently took her arm and tugged her into a tight embrace; taking a moment to memorize the feel of his little girl in his arms. "But if it is within my power, before the evening passes, your mother and I will be reunited with you." He stroked his hand down his daughter's soft curls. "She going to be so delighted to see you again."_

_Cassie pulled back, her face heartbreakingly tear streaked and puffy. "And Jeremy. He's so big now."_

_Pain for the many months his love had missed with their infant son washed through him, but he swiftly pushed it aside and gave his daughter the most reassuring smile he could muster. "He's going to take her by surprise with how much attention he likes to have." He playfully tapped Cassie's nose. "You'd best get your hug in first, or you might not get one at all."_

_She giggled, her winter kissed, pink cheeks stretching with a smile, and leaned forward to place a light kiss to his cheek. "I love you, father."_

_Heart swelling with warmth at the simple, yet deeply, touching words, he whispered, "I love you, too, my sweet daughter."_

_After he'd pushed himself to his feet, he turned to Thomas, who had his infant son held securely in his arms. "Are you sure about this, Crane?" Thomas cast Cassie a short look of concern before continuing in a lower tone, "You don't really know what you're walking into here."_

_Gaze on Jeremy, who's bright blue eyes were staring up at him in wonder, he said, "It doesn't matter." Stepping forward, he placed a kiss to the top of his son's dark haired head. "If I should be delayed..."_

_Thomas patted his shoulder. "I've got them, Crane. Don't even worry about that."_

_Grateful for his friend, the one he'd once thought far too young to keep his company, he said, "I can never repay you for all you've already done."_

_Thomas shrugged nonchalantly and shifted Jeremy in his arms. "It's what you do for family."_

_Releasing a tired chuckle, he slowly nodded and glanced over to William, who was still standing with his back turned to them. "Take them down to the river once I'm gone." He looked back at Thomas. "I don't want them to know right away if I should..."_

_Unable to bring himself to acknowledge the notion of returning without Katrina, he allowed his words to die away as he laid his hand over his pocket, making sure the key was secure, before beginning to speak the words Alfred had relayed to him. A loud, cracking sound echoed around the brightly lit forest and then what appeared to be a wall of glass shattered; revealing a long, seemingly unending hallway. This was it. He was going to find her. Heart pounding in his chest, he wet his lips and made to step forward. However, slender arms suddenly wrapping around his waist halted his steps in their tracks. Gaze jerking down, he found his eldest son clinging to him in a fierce hug; his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his fingers gripping his coat. Overcome with love, he carefully dropped to his knees and pulled William close to his chest._

_"Promise you'll come back."_

_The heartfelt whisper brought a tight knot to his throat. Since his awakening, William hadn't really seemed to care all that much for his return as every other word out of the boy's mouth had been a desperate longing for his mother. To finally hear his son exhibit a wish for his presence filled him with inexplicable joy. It brought to his mind the memory of the time he'd been departing for the war and William had begged him not to leave. That one whisper from his son had warmed his heart in ways he couldn't properly describe. They'd spent so much time together over those precious weeks he'd boarded at the von Brunt residence that he'd felt they'd formed a real bond, if not as father and son, then at least as two creatures who'd shared so many of the same traits. That feeling, however, had faded with William's continued disinterest with him after his awakening. So new to fatherhood, he'd felt completely lost as to what to do for the boy._

_"I have no greater desire than to return here to you, William." He leaned back on his heels to catch his son's wet eyes and pink tinged cheeks. "Hold fast, William. It won't be long now."_

_"We'll be a family," William said softly, his voice finding its strength. "A real one."_

_With a proud smile, he laid a hand to his son's face, grateful that this time, he didn't jerk away. "Yes, that's what we'll be; a real family at last."_

_William gave a timid nod and stepped back where he reached down to take his sister's hand. They looked so incredibly young, yet stronger than any two nine year old children should be._

_Feeling more determined than ever to see them have some form of happiness, he stood and turned back to his mission._

He'd been walking for what felt like forever. Many times, he'd been forced to quickly duck behind one low hanging tree or another out of fear that he was being followed. It was an unavoidable feeling in this place. Everything seemed to be moving and the eerie fog that had yet to lift since his arrival had his nerves frayed.

The next grove of trees he encountered brought him a sense of failure. If he couldn't find her, what was he supposed to do? He couldn't very well run around calling her name. Though, he was yet to find any, he was sure there were creatures guarding this place that would take none too kindly to his presence here and he sincerely prayed none of them appeared. He had no illusions that he was powerful enough to stop them from doing as they wished with him. That thought quickened his steps. In all his time during the war, he'd never truly been alone to face such evil. Since arriving in the colonies over a decade ago, he'd always had either Katrina or Alfred around to protect him; to stand in the gap between him and whatever threat had presented itself. Now, though, he was completely alone; vulnerable. Never again would he haggle Katrina about the overbearing protection she always provided him with.

A measure of hope at last found him as he came to a small clearing which revealed a quaint looking church in its center. Candle light was shimmering in the stained windows, prompting him to consider the possibility that a living creature was present inside. How could there be candle light if no one was there to light it? He considered that he should be wary of the temptation of safety the church provided. Alfred had said that Purgatory would attempt to trick and lull him into a sense of calm before pulling the rug from beneath him, but nothing of that sort had yet to happen. The possibility that this could be that calm shot a spike of worry down his spine. The idea that this church could be a trap to lure unsuspecting souls in bothered him greatly, but he pushed it aside almost as soon as he thought of it. Surely, there weren't many souls to tempt with the safety of a church? He imagined he was the only one worth temping and he desperately hoped his presence was still unknown. In the end, he reasoned that the tormented souls which surrounded the church were far less welcoming than the soft glow coming through the windows. Knowing he had no other option, he carefully began maneuvering between the crawling and aimlessly walking creatures as he made his way toward the door. Upon ascending the steps and finally resting his fingers around the cold handle, he took a deep breath and forced himself to swallow against his dry throat. If she wasn't in there, he wasn't sure what he would do.

Gently pushing the door open, he slipped through the small crack he'd made and soundlessly closed it behind him. The church was steeped tall and lit in nearly every corner with shimmering, candle light. To his surprise, it was immaculately clean as well. In all honesty, if he hadn't known for sure he was in Purgatory, he would think he'd just entered a regular church for Sunday service.

His eyes danced over the many, empty pews in search of her. However, it was movement at the front of the church toward the pulpit which caught his eyes. There she was; curly, russet locks falling over her shoulders; pale skin illuminated by the candles she was seeing to; the black dress she wore dragging the wooden floor as she moved. Could it really have been this easy? With the way Alfred had spoken, he'd thought he would face temptation of some form.

Ever so hesitantly, almost as though he were in a dream, he stepped forward; his feet warily carrying him up the aisle. It felt like a literal lifetime before he was finally within a few feet of her.

"Katrina."

Her body went rigid, freezing in place, as her hand slowly fell to her side. "Please, stop."

Brow furrowing in confusion at her lack of a more excited response to his presence, he took another hesitant step forward. "My love?"

"Leave me be," she bit out harsher than before, her fingers clenching into her palms. "I will not give into your temptations."

Temptations? Did she think he wasn't real? Perhaps, an illusion? Is that what all those poor souls were doing? Chasing illusions this place played upon them? Maybe that's what Alfred had meant. It was Katrina's temptations that had to be faced.

"I'm not tempting you," he whispered softly. "I've come to free you; to take you home."

Her head turned to the side slightly, just enough so that he could make out her profile. "So we can be together at last? Be a family?" She turned back to her candles with a harsh chuckle. "I suppose this time you'll torment me with the promise of a house? Maybe one with a barn for William's animals? Or a garden for Cassie to spread her love of life? Perhaps, Jeremy will toddle about in the dirt at her side as he doesn't enjoy being far from his beloved sister? You and I will sit and watch our children play in happiness; me full with another child and you smiling on proudly." She shook her head, her curls swishing in stark contrast over the back of the dark dress. "Are there really any other scenarios left for you to torment me with? You could have at least had my mother come to me this time, or maybe my sister?" She shrugged as she set the match on the table in front of her. "Or, perhaps, there won't be anything pleasant about the dream at all and you'll simply come to me in the form of my most dreaded and evil, first husband."

At a loss for words, he scrambled around in his mind for something to say. She seemed to be completely devoid of hope in this place.

"Look at me."

When she made no move to do so, he closed the remaining distance between them and grabbed her arm to spin her around. The first sight of the green eyes he so loved found them to be blank; lacking any of the warmth or compassion he was so accustomed to seeing in them. She looked so cold as to have him doubting himself even further. What if she was the one who wasn't real?

"I have not come this far for you to doubt me," he whispered through a near sob. The idea that he would now have to fight her filled him with such weariness."If I have to drag you out of this place kicking and screaming, I swear, I will."

Ever so slowly, her lips parted from the thin line they were set in as her cold face began to melt into one of hope. "Ichabod?"

Body slumping as he nodded almost compulsively, he allowed a slow smile to form as he stepped even closer to her. "Yes, my love."

Her eyes danced over him before she lifted a hand to stroke his face. "You're really here?"

"I am," he whispered as he leaned his forehead to hers, grateful for the contact with her. It felt as though it had been so very long since he last touched her.

Just as her lips were about to caress his, a shove to his shoulders sent him tumbling to the ground. The pain that shot along his side as he hit the wooden floor was startling, but the urge to protect his love had him quickly spinning around. However, the sight before him completely threw him for a loop. The woman he'd been about to kiss was dissolving into ash as an identical Katrina stood a foot away with the sharp end of a candle stand in her hand. As his eyes settled on hers, he found her to be staring at him in a way that had him unconsciously pushing himself back against the first pew.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice hard and demanding.

Eyebrows knitting, he pointed at the place his love had just been standing. "What-What was that?"

Her eyes flickered to the ashes almost lazily. "Temptation, but the question is, why was it in that form? Have you taken on a new trick? You wish to make it seem as though my love were here and in danger so I would be forced to save him?"

"Katrina," he said as he slowly pushed himself up so as not to alarm her. The last thing he wanted was to meet a similar fate as the ashes on the ground. "I assure you I'm real, but... how do I know you are?"

A barely there moment of confusion touched her eyes, but then it disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared as she gave a hard shake of her head. "I will not succumb to your tricks."

With that, she began moving toward the doors of the church, her stride unhurried.

Suddenly feeling overcome with anxiety that this might actually be her and that she was leaving, he bolted forward to grab her upper arm. However, at his touch, she roughly jerked away and spun to face him, her jaw set in anger. "Do not dare to touch me, demon."

Completely taken aback, he held up his hands and swallowed the knot in his throat. If this was another trick, it was doing a perfect impersonation of Katrina's fiery temper. "There must be some way for us to come to an understanding. What must I do? Tell me."

She narrowed her eyes as though inspecting some sort of insect she'd much rather be stomping with her boot than conversing with. "There is nothing in the world you can do. Ichabod Crane may as well be dead. There is no way to save him; no way to overcome the Horseman's hold on him. As you've boasted dozens of times since my banishment here: I was not strong enough."

"But William and Cassie were," he whispered softly; his words causing a slight frown to form on her face. Seeing he had her attention and feeling hopeful that this was where he was meant to be, he went on. "They came and found me in the place you hid me."

She gave no reaction other than to say, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Not to be stopped and lose this chance, he said, "They drew away the Horseman's blood tie from me. He still sleeps while I'm awake. My love, they saved me."

She took a step back and he noticed her fists clenched; her knuckles gone white. "Do what you will with me, demon, but I'll never reveal his location to you."

Seeing his opportunity, he quickly said, "The cave." Upon her eyes widening slightly at that revelation, he continued, "You buried me in a cave on the outskirts of Sleepy Hollow."

She shook her head; her brow knitting. "He's not in a cave."

"Yes, I was," he pressed as he stepped toward her; taking into account her body's tensing. "But William and Cassie found me because you revealed to Cassie where I was buried." When she only stared at him in a state that had her breathing racing, he softly said, "Katrina, it's me."

"You're a liar," she whispered shakily while jerking a finger up. "You're not real."

"William is depending upon me to bring you back," he pressed, hoping he was conveying with his eyes what his mouth seemed to be lacking. "He needs you so desperately, my love. You have no idea how strong he's forced himself to be; how far he's pushed himself. I swear, upon my awakening, he practically hated me because I was the reason he was separated from you and it's taken quite some time for him to accept me." He took a hesitant step toward her and laid a hand to her face, prompting her to squeeze her eyes shut. "They're waiting just outside for us. Please, don't make me fail them; don't make me fail, William. He'll never forgive me if I return without you."

When her eyes came back to his, they were glistening with unshed tears. "You can't be here. You're trying to trick me."

At the end of what he knew to do, he grasped her arms and pulled her forward before pressing a firm kiss to her lips; one of desperation and longing. Her immediate reaction was to claw at him in an attempt to escape, but he maintained his hold on her, placing all the love he could manage into his kiss. If only she would stop thinking and actually allow herself to feel him... When she finally lessened her fight, he softened the intensity of his kiss and found himself relieved when she began hesitantly returning it; her soft lips taking to caressing his chapped ones in return. Unable to go a moment longer without air, he just barely pulled back and whispered, "I'm here. I swear to you, my love. I am here and I will never part from you again." For added effect, he dug into his pocket and produced the key. "And I have the means to free us both."

Her eyes settled on the key for a long moment of contemplation before they came back to him not only in surprise, but still sprinkled with doubt. "Ichabod... It can't be... There is no reality where I'm freed from this hell."

"You must have faith, my love." He cupped her cheeks and leaned his forehead to hers. "I love you so desperately, my Katrina. Put your faith in me, in our love; the love that produced the strongest and most brave children this world has ever seen."

Her fingers hesitantly laid against his cheek. "I never thought I'd see you again. I was so afraid..."

His eyes squeezed shut to hold back the impending tears. He was long overdue an emotional breakdown and he felt one fast approaching. "I'm so sorry. I should have been with you."

"I can't-"

The doors at the back of the church began violently shaking as a beastly noise echoed on its other side, causing them to flinch in each other's arms.

"It's Moloch," she said, her voice strong once more. "He knows you're here."

"We have to go," he said as he began pulling her to the other end of the church. "Repeat these words after me."

As she did so, the doorway appeared just as the window at the front of the church shattered, revealing a horned figure looming on the other side. The sight sent a chorus of chilling tingles down his spine.

"Ichabod..."

He nearly dropped the key as he attempted to insert it into the gate; his nerves getting the better of him. When he finally managed to succeed in his task, the bars flung open and sucked them both through; the sunlight of the other side greeting them as they hit the ground with force. From his place in the crisp leaves, he quickly jerked his gaze up to the demon barreling toward them just as the gate promptly closed in his face and the glass snapped back into place to reveal nothing but the afternoon, sun lit forest. If he hadn't been sure a doorway to that hellish place had been there moments before, the undisturbed forest would have had him believing it was all simply a figment of his imagination.

"Ichabod?"

Katrina's voice prompted him to quickly turn over to see her sitting up and running her fingers through the leaves and dirt. A little less than gracefully, he pushed himself up to crawl over to her.

"My love?"

Her gaze flickered up to him as a brilliant smile lit her face. "Is this real? Am I truly here... with you?"

Practically feeling her joy seeping into him, he lifted a hand to push a few strands of her scarlet hair back and returned her smile. "Yes, my love."

With those words said, she vaulted herself into his embrace causing both of them to tumble over into the scattered leaves. The sound of her warm laughter brought a grin to his face as she pushed herself up to lean over him; straddling him on all fours.

"You came for me," she whispered, her long locks tickling his face as they hung over him.

Eyes dancing over her lovely features, he traced his fingers over her pink tinged cheek. "Always."

Another beautiful smile touched her lips before she leaned down to place a soft kiss to his mouth.

* * *

"Is he very angry with me?"

The nervousness present in her voice was accompanied by her fingers clutching his hand almost painfully.

"No more than I was when I discovered you were a witch." As expected, her eyes darted up to his in building anxiety, causing him to chuckle. "No matter his feelings, William is going to be over the moon that you're home."

A shuddered breath left her as her eyes returned to the winding trees ahead of them. "I hope you're right."

"I always am," he said, hoping to pull a smile back to her face, which he did as she squeezed his hand affectionately.

"I left them with Grace," she continued. "They were supposed to be safe with her, living as normally as possible; not traipsing all over the forest during wintertime."

With her words came a shiver from her body, prompting him to slide his coat from himself and gently place it around her slender shoulders. "They're very brave."

"I've gone from hurting you to hurting them," she whispered; her voice cracking as she lifted a hand to her eyes. "They deserve better than the life I've given them; terror and nightmares."

His love's quiet self-infliction was tugging at his heart painfully. "They'll have better now."

"Will they?" she asked, casting him a sorrowful glance. "Will we have peace now? Or will some other unforeseen obstacle tear us apart again?"

Not able to allow this train of thought to continue any longer, he stopped and gently grabbed her arms to turn her to face him. "There will be no more obstacles." He cupped her neck and tilted his head to catch her darting eyes. "You and I are going to find a house and raise our children just like we've always wanted. If anyone even dares to try and stop us..." He took a moment to permit a small grin. "Well, I won't be of much use, but I'm sure your temper will more than take care of it."

She, however, didn't seem to find amusement in his words as she clutched at the front of his shirt. "Ichabod-"

"The Horseman is out of play," he went on with a measure of more seriousness. "Abraham is gone. Your coven wouldn't dare tempting me to turn on them and neither would Washington." He shook his head and smiled. "It's over, my love. No one else is going to manipulate our fates. The rest of our days are ours to do with as we please." He stroked his fingers over her lips, suddenly mesmerized with how completely kissable they were. "We are going to have the life we deserve, Katrina. The life we were meant to have since the time we ran the streets together as children."

She continued to stare at him searchingly before a gentle smile crept over her face. "I love you, Ichabod Crane."

With a hearty chuckle, he leaned forward to press a tender kiss to her soft lips. "That's very good to know."

"Mama?"

The sound of his daughter's voice prompted him to glance down the hill to the river bank where he found her staring up at them; her blue eyes filled with hope as she gazed upon her mother.

"Cassie," Katrina whispered as she dropped to her knees and held out her arms.

Cassie took in the gesture and immediately bolted up the small hill and into her mother's embrace; her slender arms tightly wrapping around Katrina's neck.

"I missed you so much," Katrina said as she stroked their daughter's back and buried her face in her soft hair.

Cassie nodded against Katrina's shoulder as a chocked sob escaped her. "I missed you, too, mama."

For his part, he simply watched with a content smile as his love held their daughter close. It was the most beautiful sight he'd seen in some time; their happiness. He never wanted to see it gone from their faces again.

"You did it."

Unable to stop his smile from spreading even further, he turned to Thomas who was just reaching them with Jeremy squirming in his arms.

"We all did," he said, as he secured his son and turned back to his love to find her eyes now trained on him over Cassie's shoulder. When her gaze fell to Jeremy, he noticed the tears welling in her eyes, which prompted him to step toward her.

"Someone is eager to see his mother again."

Katrina swiftly wiped at her eyes before lifting her arms out to take their youngest son. The dark haired boy went willingly as she pulled him tightly against her bosom. "Oh, Jeremy. You've grown so much."

As she began cooing over Jeremy, who took to lightly touching her face, Cassie leaned close to them. "He likes me best."

"I bet he does," she whispered as she ran her fingers through the wide-eyed boy's curly locks.

"He likes William, too, though."

At the mention of William, he noticed Katrina's eyes jerk up searchingly and fix on something behind him. Upon turning to follow her gaze, he found his son standing stone still a few feet away.

"William?" he asked softly, gaining his young son's eyes. "Don't you want to see your mother?"

The boy's fingers began fidgeting at his sides as he quickly shook his head.

Taken aback, he glanced at Katrina, who was now frowning in a mild form of heartbreak. Not wanting her moment of joy to end so soon, he stepped toward his son and knelt in front of him as he attempted to discern what was going through his mind. "I brought her home to you just like you wanted."

William's crystal, blue eyes filled with tears. "She'll leave me again. No matter what I do, she always leaves me."

Lifting a hand to his son's shoulder, he firmly shook his head, hoping he could dash his son's fears away. "No, she won't. None of us are ever leaving again." He smiled with what he prayed was assurance. "I won't let her."

Clearly not convinced, he watched his son fidget even more as he shifted his feet. "I'm afraid, father."

"I know," he whispered soothingly. "But I and your mother are here. That's never happened before. Things are changing for the better, now. Starting today, we're going to have a different life."

"You promise?"

Knot in his throat at his son's brightening countenance, he nodded. "I promise."

William didn't give another moment's hesitation before he fell into his arms; his slender fingers gripping along his back. Eyes falling closed, he clutched his son tightly against him. "I love you so dearly, William."

"William?"

Katrina's voice pulled them apart as they both turned to her. She was standing about a foot away, her face etched with worry. However, her expression didn't remain that way for long as William's doubt disappeared altogether and he swiftly darted around him toward his mother, who had dropped to her knees to catch him as he all but flung himself into her embrace.

Regaining his feet, he watched on with a relieved smile as his son clung to his mother and wept softly into her hair. For her part, Katrina's eyes were closed tightly as she placed a kiss to the side of William's head and laughed. "My sweet boy," she said as she pulled back to cup his face. "Look at you."

Not missing a beat, William said rather matter of factly, "Father said you can never leave again."

Katrina's eyes flickered up to him as a slow smile came to her face. "Did he? Well, I suppose that's that, then." She ran her hands through William's thick hair. "You've grown a foot since I last saw you."

"I haven't," William groaned and dropped his chin to his chest; seemingly realizing his mother was being overly affectionate with him in front of others.

Katrina's smile grew as she dipped her head to catch William's eyes again. "I heard you've been very brave."

William only shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to find you."

"And you did," she whispered. "Without you, I'd still be in that awful place. Your courage saved us all." She glanced behind her and held out her hand to Cassie. "And yours as well."

Cassie grinned as she relinquished a wiggling Jeremy to Katrina. "I just took care of Jeremy, but I'm glad you're here now. He's nearly pulled out all of my hair. It's your turn."

A chuckle escaped Katrina as she held Jeremy close. "Is it, now? I suppose I must accept such an arduous task. Though, I'm sure I won't be nearly as wonderful at it as you."

As the four of them giggled amongst themselves, he found himself taking to shifting his feet. They seemed so involved with each other that he wasn't sure what to do with himself. After all this time of attempting to bring them all together, he suddenly found himself unsure of where he belonged in the scope of things. Deciding to head over to Thomas, who was standing down by the river as a means to give their family some privacy, he was halted by Katrina's voice.

"Where are you going?"

He glanced at her with wide eyes and cleared his throat. "Oh, I was-"

"Come here," she interrupted, holding out her hand toward him.

Acquiescing to her request, he stepped forward and accepted her hand, which promptly tugged him down to the dirt beside her. When he finally found his balance, he looked up at her and took in her smile; one so brilliant as to leave him slightly short of air.

"You belong with us," she whispered as she threaded their fingers together and brought them to her lips.

"Yes, father," Cassie continued, her voice once more in that silvery tone he adored. "We're a family now; a real one."

At a loss for words, he glanced to his side and took in William's always serious face. However, to his surprise, his son's mouth was twitching with a grin aching to escape.

Sill hesitant that this was actually happening, he asked, "A family?"

"That's what you've always wanted, isn't it?" Katrina asked softly, prompting his eyes to venture back to her shining green one's.

He felt as though he should have something profound to say; something that would properly express how he felt to have this finally happening after all the past years of begging for it. Meeting Katrina's eyes, the green eyes he'd drowned himself in so many times before, he, instead, did the only thing he knew to do; kiss her.

The subsequent giggles that left both William and Cassie, as well as the light tugging of Jeremy's fingers along the collar of his shirt, had him smiling against her lips as he pulled back to lean his forehead to hers and whisper, "Our family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so the epilogue is next and I'm really struggling with it. I have two very different versions I'm attempting to decide between, but the one I'm leaning toward wasn't the plan I had upon starting this story. It's the reason I haven't been posting as frequently because I've been stuck. However, I think I'm going to go with the one that feels more natural rather than the one I had planned. I've really loved writing this story and want to do what's best for the characters I so adore. So... with that said, I'll try to get it sorted and published asap.


	53. Chapter 53

_Epilogue_

He couldn't recall a time he'd ever been so nervous; sweaty palms being only the most obvious indicator as he wiped them down his thighs in an effort to regain some sense of control over his jittery body. The whimpered sounds coming from across the room, however, had his body on high alert; like a deer in the midst of an open field who'd just heard a twig snap. Every cry or sob that met his ears had his feet itching to move forward, despite the heated warning he'd received to stay out of the way.

Be that warning as it may, the sight of his love writhing on their bed, her fingers desperately clutching at the sheets, absorbed his last ounce of willpower and had him stumbling toward the bed as he could stand no more.

"Mr. Crane. I allowed you in, but you must give us room to-"

He threw a heated glare at the fair haired woman positioned at the foot of the bed who had been giving orders to the other women scurrying around the room. "I'm not going to stand in a corner for the duration of this. If you can't do your job with me at my wife's side, I'd consider another profession."

"My love..."

Her soft voice called his eyes back to his sweat drenched wife and he couldn't help the reassuring smile he gave her in the hopes to lift her spirits. Gently running a hand over her forehead, he pushed her russet locks, which were plastered to her skin, from her flushed face. "Tell me what you need. I'll do anything you ask of me."

She managed a half smile before her gaze ventured to the door. "Are they-?"

"They're fine," he whispered while taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "William is deep in his reading and Cassie is preventing Jeremy from attempting to take flight from the top of the staircase."

A breathless chuckle escaped her, bringing a smile to his face. This is why he was supposed to be here with her; to provide her with something to think on other than the pain and fear of what was to come.

"He's so stubborn."

"Like his mother," he said, brushing his finger along her warm cheek.

Her fingers rested over his hand and she opened her mouth to respond when whatever she was going to say was replaced by her face crumpling and her head arching back into the pillows while her fingers tightened over his.

"Katrina..."

He hated seeing her this way. In all the times he'd longed to witness the birth of his children, he'd never imagined it would be quite this stressful. Never again would he complain over pain. His love was presenting him with the definition of it while enduring their newest child's attempt to make its way into the world.

When her fingers finally loosened some of the biting pressure around his, he wiped at the tears which had leaked from her eyes. "I wish I could take it all from you."

To his surprise, her lips twisted upward. "You'd never be able to handle it. Your pain tolerance is too low."

Quite offended by her accusation, he narrowed his eyes at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"It always has been," she said, her voice hoarse, but still managing to have that melodic sound he so loved. "Splinters nearly bring you to your knees."

_"It hurts," he groaned as he slumped against the alley's brick wall. "I told you we shouldn't have used the shortcut through the field."_

_"Oh, Ichabod," she said as she spun around, her bright hair glinting in the evening sunlight. "Stop being so dramatic. It's only a splinter."_

_Feeling she was doing him an injustice by casting his pain aside as trivial, he thrust out his finger and gave an exasperated, "It's bleeding!"_

_With a roll of her eyes, she grasped his hand and took to examining his injury, which was stinging beneath the trickle of blood which was bubbling from the tip of his finger._

_"Ow!" he exclaimed when she suddenly squeezed his skin between her thumbs, bringing a burning pain to its tip. "What are you doing!?"_

_"Well, if you want it to heal, you have to get the splinter out," she said, sounding more like his mother than his friend. "Now, be still."_

_Gritting his teeth, he slapped his other hand over his face and allowed her to continue her torture._

"That was an isolated incident," he defended, crossing his arms in mock agitation. "I do believe that wound became infected later as well."

Katrina rolled her eyes in the exact same way she did all those years ago while still maintaining her smile. "I'm sure that's what happened."

Grinning at her teasing, he watched as she closed her eyes and attempted to adjust amidst the blankets before he glanced over at the midwives minding the room in preparation for the baby's arrival.

It was still such a surreal feeling for him to actually be here. For so long, he'd never thought he would be able to witness something like this, but then everything had so quickly changed. Katrina had been returned to him what was now three years past and, between the two of them, they'd managed to finally pave their way to a peaceful life. He'd thought his role as a Witness would put a damper on their reunion upon returning to Sleepy Hollow. However, many revelations had followed that had changed that.

While in Purgatory, Katrina had been made aware that Death wasn't as much of a stranger as they'd previously assumed. Consumed with anger and the feeling of betrayal, Abraham had taken Moloch's soul condemning offer on the promise that he would be granted Katrina as reward for his loyal service. The very notion that Abraham would want her as his dark bride filled him with illness and the images that had haunted his sleep in the nights that followed had brought him to fitful waking only to be comforted by Katrina's sweet embrace.

Over the many months that came after, while attempting to build a home for themselves and tending to their attention starved children, they'd come to quite a few conclusions. Witnesses came and went the same as Horseman. There's a certain spirit Witnesses' carry; one that, once they pass from this life, will attach to another worthy of such title and continue on throughout time and generations until its awakened in them from pressing need. After much deliberation between Katrina and her old coven, the likes of which was accompanied with a great deal of tension, they all came to the agreement that the Apocalypse had been halted that day he'd slain the Horseman of Death on the battlefield. With his blood tie to the Horseman now gone, Abraham would remain in his watery grave while he would continue on with life. No more would he face the evils of the world as a Witness. His duty in that area was finished, leaving him with the only duty he cared to have; the very duty he was so eager to see expand on this very day.

Parenthood with his childhood love.

"It's nearly time," said Margaret, the midwife who would deliver their newest child, as she gave him a withering glance. "If you're to remain here, do me a favor and support her."

Heeding the woman's words, he helped them pull the sheets beneath Katrina to the end of the bed so she was in the proper position before he slid behind his love and pressed his chest flush to her back.

Her body was tense as she dug her fingers into his thighs, surely giving him his own bruises from this experience.

As he cradled her in his embrace, he lifted a hand to swipe all of her thick hair to one side and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her ear. "I'm right here, my love."

In response, she gave a choked sob and dug her fingers even further into his thighs as she leaned her head back against his shoulder.

"Alright," Margaret said, as she wiped a wet towel over Katrina's warm face. "It's time."

"Ichabod..." Katrina whispered as she turned her face into his neck and groaned as her body went rigid against him. "It hurts."

Stroking his hands up and down her arms, he tenderly kissed her sweat slicked forehead. "I'm so sorry, my love, but it's nearly over and, when it's all done, we'll have another beautiful creation to dote upon."

She gave no answer as she jolted forward in his arms and screamed as though being tortured by some unseen force. Having been completely unprepared for it, his eyes jerked up to Margaret, who was busy ordering her helpers about, in the hopes that this was normal and that something hadn't went horribly wrong. The only other place he'd ever heard such a sound before was on the battlefield with wounded and dying soldiers.

"That's it, Katrina," Margaret said in a soothing voice as she held Katrina's ankles. "You're doing wonderfully."

Katrina's screams died to whimpers as she panted for breath and, then, just when it seemed like she'd given up, he felt her body tense and her nails painfully bite back into his thighs as she let out another high-pitched wail.

Feeling utterly useless as time dragged on, he pulled her hair from her neck as it was sticking to her skin in the hopes that he would at least lessen that discomfort, but she barely seemed to even notice he was there as she writhed against him, at one point, even throwing her head back and nearly hitting him in the face.

"How much longer must she endure this?" he asked with a deep set frown at the woman in front of them.

Was this woman going to do anything to help his love? She seemed to be doing even less than he and that was saying something. A part of him knew he was allowing his emotions for his love get the best of him, but the woman had been on his bad side ever since she'd attempted to keep him out of the room.

As if he'd ever adhere to such a notion.

"We're nearly there, Katrina," Margaret said, not even sparing him a glance as her gaze was occupied between Katrina's bent legs. "Just a little further to go now. Your baby's crowning."

Perking up at that, he felt a small swell of relief wash over him. With the way time was ticking on by, he'd thought this point of the process would never come. For so long, he'd imagined being here with her and it being a precious and memorable moment. However, judging from every minute they ventured further into this supposed sweet miracle, he was doubting the validity of that idea more and more.

"I can't do this anymore," Katrina whispered through a cracked voice as she sagged against him. "It's too much. Please, just let it be over."

"No, no, Katrina," Margaret sternly said as she looked up at her. "I need just a little more from you. Come now. Let us finish this."

Katrina wearily shook her head and buried her face into his neck as she cried, her hot tears sticking to his skin as she panted against him.

Lifting a hand to wipe at her cheeks, he whispered, "You're so strong, my love, and such a fierce mother." He pulled back and caught her glistening, olive eyes. "Be fierce for our little one. Let our baby's first breath come from its mother's loving strength."

She blinked at him through her trailing tears for a moment before she gave a series of clipped nods and took a handful of quick breaths before once again tightly gripping him and releasing a piercing scream.

His eyes flickered to Margaret when she asked for towels and a blanket.

"Is it here?" he asked in increasing anticipation.

"Just once more, Katrina," the fair haired woman encouraged.

His love put her all into that last push and then that moment came; the one where his heart felt as though it had stopped and the world had drastically shifted. The sound of his child's small screech's, likely the result of being taken from the warm cocoon of its mother's body, filled the room; the sound taking a hold of his heart in a way that had tears building in his eyes. Then, Margaret stood and began wrapping his child in the thin blanket she'd requested, preventing him from seeing much other than pink skin splotched with red and white substances.

As she walked around to the side of the bed, she gave the first smile he'd witnessed her allow and said, "Well, I hope you were prepared for another Missus Crane, Ichabod."

"A girl?" Katrina hoarsely whispered as she weakly attempted to sit up in his arms.

Coming to his senses, he slipped his arms under her and assisted her in finding a moderately comfortable position to accept their baby in.

When Margaret leaned down to place the baby in Katrina's arms, he felt his breath hitch at the sight of the splotchy pink being he'd so anticipated meeting.

"We have a little girl," Katrina whispered as she trailed her fingers over the squirming baby's cheek.

So overcome with emotion, the knot in his throat prevented him from commenting. How could someone that had barely greeted his eyes for more than a handful of heartbeats own so much of him already?

"Ichabod?"

His eyes finally flickered up from the whimpering baby to meet Katrina's concerned olive eyes; the light in them dimming ever so slightly.

"Are you alright?" she asked timidly as her eyes darted all over his face. "Is-Is a girl alright?"

"Alright?" he repeated with a cracked voice as he leaned forward to kiss her damp cheek. "She's perfect."

He felt Katrina's body release a heavy breath as he pulled back to smile at her. What he found was so much happiness on her face that she looked as though she would burst.

"She's beautiful," he said, his own fingers hesitantly reaching out to touch his child's outstretched palm. "I can't believe she's ours."

"Is the name we chose still alright?" Katrina asked as she smiled down at their daughter.

"Oh, yes," he whispered as his little girl continued to squirm every which way. "Our precious, Hope." He chuckled and pressed a kiss to Katrina's ear. "It's very fitting as I've hoped for this for so long. Thank you, my love."

She relaxed against him and settled her head in the crook of his neck. "We're only here because of you. You never gave up."

Running his fingers over their daughter's cheek, he said, "How could I when I had such a future as this in store?"

Her laughter warmed his skin as she sunk even further against him. That is, until the door across the room creaked open to reveal a fall of curly, red hair.

"Is it here, yet?"

"One moment, Cassie," he said as Margaret returned to help remove the filthy sheets.

When he and Katrina were finally settled against the headboard with her leaning against him and Hope securely in her arms, she called out for Cassie.

In response to Katrina's permission, his eldest daughter slung the door open and proceeded to enter; her willowy form bouncing toward the bed.

"Slow down," he said, as the energetic bundle of energy that was Cassie skidded to a stop at the bed's edge.

She stood on her tiptoes and eyed the baby with a curious gaze as William, tall and lanky, strolled towards them at a more reasonable pace with Jeremy scrambling around his legs.

"What is it?" Cassie asked as she reached out to touch the baby's pink fingers.

Katrina smiled and said, "You finally have a sister."

Cassie's bright blue eyes widened as a grin split her cheeks.

William, on the other hand, looked on rather stoically, his long arms supporting him as he leaned over the bed for a better view, and softly asked, "What's her name?"

As he reached down to lift up a fitful Jeremy, who was attempting to peek over the bed, to sit beside him, Katrina answered, "Hope."

Jeremy, his wavy dark hair falling into his eyes, bent over the baby before glancing up at Katrina and grinning, his chubby cheeks raising. "Baby."

Katrina laughed and pressed a playful kiss to Jeremy's nose. "Yes, a baby. Do you like her?"

Jeremy gave a quick nod in reply as he began talking animatedly to the baby.

Not quite as easy going as Katrina with their mischievous son so close to their newborn, he kept a steady hand on Jeremy's waist to hold him in place. The last thing they needed was him having one of his sudden bursts of energy that usually had him unexpectedly tackling someone. Katrina thought it innocent boyhood, but he thought it a signal to future, criminal activity. The boy was always up to something and it worried him to no end. When the house went quiet, he knew to immediately search for his youngest son.

"She doesn't look like me," Cassie groaned as she sat beside him. "I was hoping she would if it was a girl."

William finally let a small smile crease his face. "She looks like me."

Cassie threw him an annoyed glare as Katrina softly smiled at William, who was now caressing Hope's cheek.

For a while, he'd worried the bond between Katrina and William would never be what it had been in those first years, but it was a worry dashed as soon as the boy had found the comfort of a consistent life. While Katrina went out of her way to spend individual time with each of their children, from gardening with Cassie to wreaking destruction on their sitting room with Jeremy, she always reserved a special time in the evening to spend with William where they read and quietly talked on the porch swing. It was so touching to him how easily they fell into their bond; how easy it was for them to relate to one another. At times, he'd watch them through the front window of their house as they giggled and conversed; absorbed in their own little world.

"She does," Katrina said as she beckoned William to sit.

When he did, she carefully leaned forward and placed Hope in his arms, who William hesitantly accepted and brought to his chest. After a moment of acquainting himself with holding the baby, William laughed. "She's so small."

Cassie scooted next to her brother and grinned. "She's smaller than Jeremy for sure." She glanced at Jeremy, who was trying to gain another glimpse of his new sister. "Jeremy was a fat baby."

At that, Jeremy's attention flew to Cassie with a glare as he stuck his tongue out at her.

"Jeremy," he scolded warningly, drawing an innocent expression from his son.

However, that innocence abruptly left him when Katrina chuckled, telling him he was free to do as he pleased again. Without further ado, he vaulted himself into her arms, nearly giving him a heart attack in the process. Katrina grimaced, prompting him to reach for Jeremy, but she shook her head and forced a smile as she adjusted Jeremy and pulled him to sit in her lap.

"He's alright," she said, even as her voice gave way to her discomfort.

"Jeremy, you're mother's very tired and sore," he said, making sure he had the boy's eyes to properly convey his seriousness. "Be careful."

While Jeremy took to curling into Katrina's body, she reached and threaded their fingers together. "Stop worrying so much and enjoy this moment."

Releasing a heavy sigh, he smiled and pulled her closer against his side. "I'll do my best."

"I hope so," she whispered as she placed a kiss to his neck. "I just labored for ten hours to give you what you asked me for all those years ago. You'd better enjoy every second of this."

Chuckling into her thick, russet locks, he promised, "I shall commence my enjoyment immediately."

Ever true to his word, his eyes darted down to Jeremy, who was contentedly lounging in Katrina's arms, before venturing to his eldest children, who were still cooing over Hope.

It may have taken him a while to get here with taking all the different, and sometimes difficult, paths along the way, but he was truly grateful for every heartache he'd endured to have this moment.

Eyes falling back to Katrina, who was staring up at him with a content smile, he leaned his forehead to hers. "Have I thanked you lately?"

"For what?" she asked softly as she lifted a hand to his cheek.

He shook his head and traced her lips with his thumb. "For being such a scoundrel of a little girl all those years ago and dragging me right along with you every day. I'd hate to imagine what kind of a different life I'd have had without you."

Her smile widened as she said, "It was my pleasure to be such a bad influence."

With a grin at her, he captured her lips in a tender kiss before sliding his cheek along hers to whisper in her ear, "I love you, Katrina Crane."

A greater truth he'd never spoken.

His one constant.

His one love.

His Katrina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I hate ending stories. I started this a little over a year ago and it's always so hard to let go of my babies. I hope this ending was satisfactory and didn't let anyone down. I had something entirely different planned involving them in the twenty first century, but it would have left it open ended and unsettled. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I wanted a happy ending for this particular Ichatrina family, allowing them to have everything they fought so hard for.
> 
> Anywho, thanks to everyone who stuck it out with me. I've enjoyed your wonderful reviews and kind words over the last year.
> 
> And don't worry for anyone who thinks I'm anywhere near done expressing my love for Katrina Crane. Two new stories are coming very soon with detailed outlines already written from start to finish. One entirely an Au set in the past with a forced marriage between Ichabod and Katrina involving no supernatural elements and another picking up just after season one with Katrina staying at Ichabod's side and still pregnant with a kind of PTSD from Purgatory.
> 
> I hope to see you all over on those and, once again, thanks so much for sticking it out with me ;)


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